


The Heiress

by Watch_Shield_Kill



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Other, Post-Bleach Ending, RenKFC, anti-bleach ending, post bleach ending, we ship RenKFC in this house
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:42:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28094079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Watch_Shield_Kill/pseuds/Watch_Shield_Kill
Summary: Byakuya thought he was done with family drama, but one night, a chance dream reminds him it's far from over. Soon after, a new recruit joins his squad and brings with her memories Byakuya had long since repressed. Now he must reconcile his past with his present once again, but this time, he might not receive forgiveness as easily. (Post-Bleach ending; IchiRuki because I'm still salty; one major OC with a couple others on the side/in the distance.)
Relationships: Kuchiki Byakuya/Kuchiki Hisana, Kuchiki Rukia/Kurosaki Ichigo
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	1. Prologue

_The voice was small and quavering, yet unbearably loud. The sheer din of the voice, no matter its fragile phrasings, was pressing against his ears, attempting to consume his entire being as if it existed for no other reason. He knew his face was contorting in a mix of pain and guilt, though he did not identify with either of these feelings at the time. They simply were, as was this voice, oppressive as it was._

_"BYAKUYA," it echoed, straight into his eardrums. He attempted to answer, but his efforts were ineffective. The voice only echoed again, both distant and near, muted and clear. For a second he couldn't decide if the source was far away or right beside him; the sensation was of mental vertigo._

_"THIS IS A WARNING, BYAKUYA."_

_But for what? What had he done that required such an ominous atmosphere? What was to come for him that was so dire?_

_"I…I…haven't done…anything…!" It was like speaking into a heavy pillow; he was screaming simply so he could hear himself, only to have his words muffled against what seemed to be only the air around him. Preposterous as it was, there was no fighting this. No fighting, for he had already lost._

_"THIS IS A WARNING, BYAKUYA," the voice said one last time, and he turned away…_

_…into that room on that horrible day, kneeling beside her and grasping her hand firmly, as if to anchor her to this world for even just a few minutes longer._

_"You must promise, Byakuya, never to tell her…."_

_He opened his mouth to speak, knowing where he was now and what to do; he had to get this dream, a horrible repeat of the worst day of his life, over with as soon as possible before the agony set in. But alas, though he put forth the effort to speak, not a word left his mouth. In a spurt of frustration, he found himself yelling, shouting, screaming with all his might, but though he felt his throat turning red and raw from the strain, not so much as a syllable made it out. Already he was exhausted from his efforts, but nothing was working, nothing!_

_"You must promise, Byakuya…never see her again…."_

_Though silence was already his, he withdrew from any more attempts to talk and stared hard at her dark figure. She had never said this…._

_"You heartless man…never see her again, or she will crumble…."_

_Heartless? She will crumble? No, it was because he had a heart that he couldn't see her again, didn't Hisana know that—_

_"NEVER SEE HER AGAIN."_

The cacophonous voice at last launched Byakuya back into sweaty, shaking consciousness. Though Hisana was no stranger to his dreams, he hadn't dreamed of that particular morning in years.

It had left him a tangled mess of everything, and any usual attempts to calm himself yielded not even a trace of a result. To unwillingly subject himself to that kind of torture again, and to hear such _anger_ in her voice….

But, why now? Why did that have to happen? And of course, Hisana had not been referring to Rukia. Byakuya knew that in the way he knew whenever his squad members were lying, or whenever the gardens were about to burst open with flowers each spring. But, he hadn't even been thinking of _her._ She hadn't been a thought in so long he had practically forgotten her existence, exactly as he had planned.

Or was that it? Because he had forgotten in the first place?

Ignoring his trembling, Byakuya closed his eyes and loosened his grip on the blanket. Sleep slowly came back to him, though once it did return, blissfully, he was not faced with any more memories he'd rather forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Aw shit, here we go again...._
> 
> In all seriousness, this is the first fic I've posted 1) since 2017 and 2) on AO3 ever. I was so out of it I thought it was socially acceptable to live on FF.net forever (not a diss, I know to honor my roots). So, um, yeah. I will post over all chapters so I'm caught up on both here and FF, then it's back to posting every other week give or take a few days.
> 
> Ooh, fun fact: This is a major revamp of a story I originally wrote in 2008 or something. I'm no longer 12, so maybe it's a little better.
> 
> A little.


	2. Chapter 2

Any leftover feeling from the night before vanished after a morning spent running the most rigorous drills he could think of. Within fifteen minutes Byakuya had his squad members panting hard, testing their endurance and quick-thinking in ways he had never done before. He outwardly justified this by claiming the reward would be plentiful, though on the inside he knew the extra work meant he'd have to force too much attention on ensuring the idiots under his command didn't accidently shank themselves with their Zanpaku-to as they ran, dodged, attacked, crawled, and collapsed into piles of hungover failure to think of—

Wait a minute, collapse into piles of hungover failure? Raising a hand, Byakuya cried out, "Halt!" All activity instantly ceased. The members of Squad Six cautiously followed their captain as he approached one of their comrades, some unfortunate soul whose night of partying had rendered him incapable of little more than curling up on the ground and moaning about his nausea.

Upon finding this subordinate neither vomiting nor dying, Byakuya gave him a sharp kick to the ribs. "Get up," he murmured, though the volume of his voice was truly what drove the man to heave himself up as fast as the dizziness would allow.

Byakuya offered him a harsh glare. "The next time I find you incapacitated for non-immediate reasons," he began, his voice never once rising above its usual level, "you will promptly find yourself running additional laps and courses after every squad exercise, as well as taking charge of cleaning the barracks and laundering the uniforms." His eyes narrowed. "Any pleading for assistance or, shall we say, 'cheating,' will have your work also cover that of Squad Thirteen. Do I make myself clear?"

Any bit of cheek the squad member may have had evaporated. Despite the dizziness making the world spin, he nodded his head and called out, "Yessir!"

Narrowing his eyes some more, Byakuya turned his head to face the rest of his squad. "Four laps. No shunpo."

Trying their very hardest not to groan in protest, the entirety of Squad Six headed off to begin their laps. All of them had very quickly learned to dread "laps," for despite this implying perhaps a jog around the squad barracks, in Squad Six, "laps" had just one connotation: running the entire perimeter of the Seireitei. This command was typically only given when Captain Kuchiki was especially displeased with one of them, or with his brother-in-law, or with his lieutenant, or with whatever else had wronged him in the last twenty-four hours. To some relief, laps were generally a once-a-month type of thing, however. At the very least, Captain Kuchiki often joined them on their laps, if only to fire venomous forms of motivation at stragglers and to reinforce the no-shunpo rule.

But aside from reinforcing his league of fools, as he thought of them on occasions such as this, Byakuya had a very different reason for joining them on their laps today, rather than leaving it to Renji. Focusing on the task at hand was a proper distraction from returning to any sort of thought he may accidently have about the night before. Naturally he had brushed off most of the lingering concerns as ludicrous, for who gets that stirred up over a _dream_ , but when it came to memories of Hisana, Byakuya was always a bit of a wreck the following day. She had been his everything, and though he'd never admit it, she was still his everything. To have her shouting at him for things he had done was not going to leave him unmarked, even if it was all an illusion. Even Renji had noticed something prior to the start of the day's training.

"Captain Kuchiki?" he had started. "You seem a bit, uh, off today—"

"I haven't the slightest idea what you are talking about, Renji. Have the men meet at the training field."

"If you insist, Captain, but really—"

"Have the men meet at the training field, Abarai. Must I repeat myself one more time?"

"No, no, I heard ya…."

_Get a grip on yourself or they'll revolt._

The dramatic flair ended any bit of reason Senbonzakura may have contributed to the situation. Narrowing his eyes once more as he ran along the rooftops above his squad, Byakuya answered in kind. _I have more important things to do than listen to your rubbish._

_Certainly you do, Byakuya_ , said Senbonzakura, a slight tone of mockery accenting his words. _But we both know running doesn't get us anywhere._

Byakuya didn't bother to respond, for he knew he wouldn't get another answer.

After a few hours and the passage of three laps, Squad Six had definitely lost its steam. Sweat was streaming, mouths were panting, and feet were no longer leaving the ground, rather shuffling along in some half-hearted attempt at movement. Many of the squad members had removed their shirts, and all long hair had been pulled back in an effort to savor any bit of cool air that may cross over their hot and sweaty necks. Even Byakuya had to admit the exercise was taking its toll, as his breathing rate had been steadily increasing and the presence of his shihakusho growing far more inconvenient. But this was never to stop him, a great and powerful captain and Kuchiki. He had fought in the direst of straits, no matter the state of his opponent or the weather. He could take on four laps around the Seireitei in a shihakusho and haori.

Under the beating sun.

Enduring the humidity all the while.

Yeah, this was definitely something Kuchiki Byakuya could do…at least as far as his squad was concerned.

However, fortunately for him, an excuse to pause had just arrived. They were passing Squad Thirteen headquarters again, and a quick (albeit extremely thorough) glance about the place had Byakuya calling to a suddenly irritated Renji to carry on in his stead. A small series of shunpo had Byakuya across the grounds and outside the captain's office in but a few seconds. His arrival did not go unnoticed, if only because he had landed right beside his sister, the other Captain Kuchiki.

Smiling up at her brother from where she sat on the engawa, short legs dangling off the edge, Rukia said, "What a pleasant surprise, Byakuya. Care to join us for a moment?"

"Us?" he asked, sitting beside Rukia.

Rukia pointed to the "us" now rounding the corner of the building, showing herself to be Rukia's youngest child, Shinigami Apprentice Kurosaki Hisana. She resembled her mother and namesake to a T, much to Byakuya's eternal amusement. It took her but seconds to realize they had a guest, and with a squeal of delight she came charging toward her uncle.

"Oji-sama!" Hisana said, bowing low before launching herself at him for a hug. "Did you bring me anything?"

Remaining as steady as he could, Byakuya shifted his niece between him and her mother. "I'm afraid I have nothing but my company for you today, Hisana-chan," he said.

"But maybe you will get Oji-sama's pardon for rudely asking him about a gift?" Rukia said, raising an eyebrow at her daughter.

Hisana blushed and stood up again, bowing once more before her uncle. "Sorry!" she squeaked.

Byakuya kept his face quite still. "For?" he said, resisting the urge to wink at Rukia.

"For being an idiot!"

"Well, perhaps not an idiot—"

Hisana was already crawling back up to the engawa, her attention span certainly inherited from her father.

"May I ask what brings you to the neighborhood, Nii-sama?" Rukia asked, grabbing Hisana by the obi and heaving her up.

Byakuya closed his eyes in irritation. "Some foolish underling of mine arrived for drills completely hungover and didn't even attempt to hide it. Within an hour he managed to earn the entire squad four laps."

Knowing exactly the Squad Six connotation of "laps," Rukia winced. "I am by no means questioning your abilities as a captain, Nii-sama, but…don't you think that was a little harsh?"

"Am I known to be soft?" Byakuya said, wrapping his arm around Hisana as she leaned into him.

Finding it best not to answer that question, Rukia crossed her legs and quickly changed the topic. "Have you heard anything from the Captain-Commander lately?"

"Not recently," Byakuya said. "Has he issued anything important for once?"

Half-chuckling, half-cringing at the memory of the last thing Captain-Commander Kyoraku had sent out ("Pool Party for all Captains and Lieutenants, 10 PM, Ladies' Swimsuit Contest at 11:30, B.Y.O.B!"), Rukia nodded. "Yes, this is actually important. The latest group of cadets has just graduated from the Academy, and their squad assignments have been sent out to the captains." A look of mild irritation crossed her face. "I just hope this group is far better than last year's..."

"Hooligans?"

"The worst kind."

"Might I suggest laps?"

Rukia's attempts to hide her smile were in vain. "While…admirable, I have found other ways to get them back in line. I think I had one of them shivering and wearing a heavy cloak and gloves for a week after I was done with him…."

Nodding at the room for creative thought, Byakuya observed the slowly moving clouds up over head, Hisana now taking advantage of the lull in conversation and telling a story about a ladybug she'd found yesterday. He most certainly hoped this year's recruits weren't a bunch of baboons, though at this point he was one hundred percent confident he was well adept at taming them, unfortunate as that fact was. Regardless, Byakuya could not deny he was even a little eager to see new faces, unpromising as they usually were at first. Years as a captain taught him that even the dumbest of subordinates could possess some talent worth distilling; as with Renji, even the dumbest of subordinates could do a fantastic job of hiding immense talent.

Byakuya was broken from his reverie by Hisana poking him hard in the diaphragm. "I'm talking!" she shouted. "Kindly listen as I have so kindly listened to you!"

" _Hisana_!" Rukia growled. "Apologize _right now_ or so _help me_ …!"

And so the bowing spiel played out again.

Sighing in exasperation, Rukia looked apologetically up at her brother. "I am so sorry. _Someone_ has been spending a lot of time with her older sister, aka god at this point, and, well, need I say more." Rukia rolled her eyes.

Casually attempting not to cough as he caught his breath, Byakuya said, "It is— _hack_ —no matter. Children— _hack_ —learn from even the most unexpected of sources, thus why we should be— _hack_ —careful with what— _hack_ —and— _hack_ —whom they— _hack_ —are subjected to." And he let out an enormous cough.

Rukia bit her tongue, not trusting herself to defend her parenting right away. "Yes…but I can't very well separate Hisana from Ichika."

"I never suggested you should, merely that a bit of caution should be exercised in child-rearing."

Rukia felt herself frowning in growing irritation. "But not enough to blind my children from reality…."

"Of course not." Byakuya watched Hisana run toward a group of squad members walking past, clearly some of her favorites. "However, call that simply a childless military man impressing his views upon any who will listen. It's no secret I haven't the experience to give you parenting tips."

Any annoyance at her brother was promptly swept away as Rukia felt a pang of guilt and pity. "Nii-sama…."

A subtle change in the set of his eyes, miniscule and easy to miss, silenced Rukia.

Byakuya quietly went on. "I can't pretend it isn't a regret I don't carry, never raising children with her, but alas, that is merely the way it was meant to be."

"But that can't be enough to get rid of any regret you must feel."

"I have come to accept regret as an essential part of anyone's existence."

As she usually was at any point during her conversations with Byakuya, Rukia was left silent for a resounding moment. However, a bit of contemplation and a dash of daring had her proposing a question: "Did she ever say she wanted children?"

Byakuya slowly nodded. "Yes. She was not adamant, but she did express some interest in motherhood. Though, she was most certainly fearful of the prospect of it all. All reasoning behind that came after her death, of course, but nevertheless…."

Rukia smiled gently at her brother and said, "No matter what she may have done, I still very much respect her. I am sure that she would have been a fantastic mother, and you a wonderful father."

Employing his very best mask of apathy, Byakuya looked out at his niece, whom he adored, and coughed once more as his diaphragm finally settled.

_If only they knew…._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The good news: I’m writing again (blame the new Within Temptation single)! The bad news: I have no idea how long it’ll last! BUT I do have 10 chapters already lined up, so we’ll just have to see what happens next. :D To gently misquote the great Peter Steele, I hope it’s not too disappointing!


	3. Chapter 3

It was two days after meeting with Rukia that Byakuya at last received his new cadet roster, though any form of irritation he may have felt about the roster's arrival dissolved before it ever became apparent. His and Rukia's last conversation had left him uncharacteristically shaken. He took it upon himself to blame his circumstances, what with his haunting dream of Hisana's death and dreadful voice preceding a heartfelt discussion about children and what could have been. Careful measures were taken to make sure none of this foolishness disturbed his work, for heaven knew Kuchiki Byakuya didn't feel anything but focused while working, but a few hours' distraction at the office, as he saw it, did little for when he retired at the end of the day. All thoughts he had bottled up, all regrets and memories, flooded his mind in a great torrent, perhaps worse than if he were to contemplate each as they appeared during the day. But he accepted this. It was the path he had chosen long ago, and he had no right to suddenly turn around and demand otherwise.

 _Or maybe you're just punishing yourself_ , Senbonzakura suggested.

Dropping the roster he had just pulled from its envelope, Byakuya closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. _Just because you know the answer_ , he began, _does not give you reason to state it._

 _Why, because you don't want to face it? Too honest for the man who values honesty so much?_ Senbonzakura was not even trying to hide the mockery in his voice, and there was a distinct note of challenge in it as well.

Byakuya slowly clenched and unclenched a fist. _You think you know me so well—_

Senbonzakura let out a rough "ha." _Byakuya, we are well past simply "knowing" each other._

_Then you should know better than to taunt me so._

_You need closure once and for all, or to relieve even a little of this pressure. Tell Rukia, she may understand—_

_I'd rather hand over the manor to Kurosaki._

_With a smile on your face, yes? Learn to be happy, Byakuya, good gracious…._

Choosing to now ignore the annoying buzzing in his head, Byakuya picked up the roster once more and scanned it. Twenty new recruits, fresh from the Shin'o Academy, were arriving today to settle in before tomorrow morning, when their first day as official Shinigami began. Their names were listed alphabetically, and brief notes from their professors were given alongside each. The first, Akamori Moriko, was quoted to have a penchant for swordsmanship, but an unfortunate habit of blowing up everything within a 40-foot radius whenever she attempted Kido.

 _Better hand her right over to Renji, then_ ….

A certain Arita Masaharu appeared to have the exact opposite problem, wherein he was flat out not to be trusted with a sword unless heavily supervised.

_And they let him graduate?_

And so the list wore on, until a name halfway down the page had Byakuya's vision narrowing even as his eyes widened, his ears closed off to any sound save the crinkling of the paper as he clenched it tight. His full body had tensed as it might just before battle, though his enemy was far less significant than a foe pressing at him with a sharp sword. No. What Byakuya had to face, what had him so unbearably shaken, were but four printed characters on a piece of paper.

_Hokutan Tsukiko._

The family name held far less significance in the grand scheme of it all; near everyone from West Rukongai District Three had taken the district's name as their own. It had little to no reason to make Kuchiki Byakuya's heart flare in some godforsaken combination of fear and guilt. But when coupled with that first name, rare in its own right yet undeniably tied to that very district... This had to be the reason his wife spoke to him all those nights ago, why she warned him to keep his distance.

This had to be _her_.

But, what if this truly was just a coincidence? Here he was, shaking in his office over something he didn't even know was worth panicking about. So what if he had a new recruit who shared a name and home with that child from all that time ago? It wasn't as if she _was_ that child…. And yet, things that were not tied to cruel memories turned reality did not leave you an emotional train wreck. They did not commandeer your axis and roughly tilt it to the left. Only real, present phenomena had that power, so perhaps he really was about to confront _her_ again.

In a need for hints, Byakuya sped through the comments accompanying Hokutan Tsukiko's name:

_Fairly well-rounded in all subjects, though elementary in the essentials to sword meditation. Beyond her years in Kido spells; capable of performing a level 33 spell without incantation up to four times successively._

Though notable, Byakuya interpreted this information on a different level than that of a curious captain. To a point, yes, Kido was an easier concept to grasp than swordsmanship because it allowed and encouraged distance between one and one's enemy. That was purely instinct, desiring separation from harm, and so it was only to be expected for many young Shinigami to be partial to Kido. But that was only within reason. Typically, recent graduates of the Academy were incapable of performing a level 33 Kido spell without first reciting its incantation; half the cases still struggled to remember the incantation itself. To see such prowess in a girl as aptly named as Hokutan Tsukiko, Byakuya was uncomfortably reminded of someone he had known for years, someone with long black hair tied back in a ponytail, his gray eyes narrowed in focus as he eventually let that hair down and rose to become lieutenant, family leader, then captain.

Byakuya knew it was foolish, but that did nothing to soothe his pounding heart. He distractedly spread his hands and looked down at the pale fingers extending from beneath the white gloves. Worn from battle and age but nevertheless steeled, they were the hands of a noble fighter. They had commanded scores of men, guided millions of miniscule blades, fired innumerable spells... But that was just the problem, wasn't it? A coincidence this just could not be. The details were falling into place a little too well.

And yet, who was Kuchiki Byakuya to let something as simple as Kido prowess affect him so much? Rukia also had outstanding abilities, and they were unrelated by blood. Lieutenant Hisagi Shuhei had also been a Kido expert, despite his humble roots in Rukongai. Aizen Sosuke too, for crying out loud. So what was there to panic over—?

BANG.

Any amount of training and practice vacated the office, and Byakuya jumped against his better judgment at the loud sound. As a reluctant silence replaced the obscene sound, Byakuya chastised himself for allowing such a basic shock to startle him. At the very least, he could thank it for breaking his train of thought, though an undercurrent of anxiety remained—

BANG.

"... _YyyyyyyyyEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!_ "

Evidently, someone was getting a little too excited over some sort of achievement, perhaps in their ability to thoroughly annoy Captain Kuchiki. That was his theory, anyway. If his squad members knew anything, it was that their captain was a progressive yet firm man, and he did not take well to childish outbursts. He typically gave the situation a chance to burn itself out, but if necessary, he'd make an appearance and utterly annihilate it before—

CRASH.

" _I will NEVER fail!_ "

Admirable though the screaming's resolve was, this was certainly the time to intervene.

Recovering in record time from any and all thoughts but to exercise authority, Byakuya was at the door in an instant. He wrenched it open and glared down the hallway, gray eyes scanning like a hawk for the source of the loud crashes and incessant shouting. Fortunately for him, the cause behind the commotion came tearing around the corner of the hallway moments later. It was of short stature, had a mass of curly, light brown hair, and bore such a look of determination upon its face it was very near terrifying even to someone who had faced the likes of Fear itself during the Quincy War. However, unnerving as the look was, Byakuya fully entered the hallway and positioned himself before the fierce girl careening straight at him. It was with a rather impressive halt she came to a stop at his feet, though in an instant the girl had thrown herself to the ground in what could only be described as a very emotional kowtow.

"This is the best day of my LIFE I am FINALLY meeting CAPTAIN KUCHIKI BYAKUYA oh my goddess _I'm so unworthy_." The girl repeatedly bowed before Byakuya, her face now bearing a wide grin and a copious amount of tears that stained her shihakusho.

Unsure if he needed to call for the Fourth or ask Captain Kurotsuchi if something of his had escaped, Byakuya simply observed the girl as she bowed excessively, shouting praises to him as though he were the answer to every prayer she had made since birth.

"Let—go—of—me!"

However, Byakuya's attention was drawn elsewhere as a sharp voice pervaded the hallway. Around the corner came another girl, this one with long black hair and a group of squad members holding her back. Byakuya hardly cleared his throat for their attention and they all looked his way. He offered a nonverbal signal for them to release the dark-haired girl, though as he shifted his gaze to the girl to ask from her a proper explanation—

He froze.

He froze as the walls suddenly closed in, his vision tunneling until the space between him and the girl was much smaller and much closer. For at the end of the hallway, her arms roughly shifting her shihakusho back into place, a look of upmost frustration upon her face…overall femininity most certainly graced the girl's features, but the general shape of her face, the color of her hair…this was her. _Hokutan Tsukiko._

"Captain Kuchiki, from the very depth of my being, I apologize for this incredibly rude disturbance," the girl said, blowing her long bangs from what Byakuya assumed were only stone gray eyes. Forcing himself away from the shock, forcing the hallway to widen to its original size, forcing everything but annoyance to leave his features, Byakuya stared on at the girl.

The girl sighed and bowed at the waist, defeat shaping her lips as she went on. "My friend got a bit excited when she learned I was to join your squad—but I promise not to let her come back! She's a lot to tolerate, even on a visit, and I accept any punishment you see fit—"

"Your name, cadet?" Byakuya said, needing confirmation immediately.

"Hokutan Tsukiko, sir, at your service." She stepped forward and bowed again.

Byakuya nearly swayed, but his many witnesses kept him on his feet. "You will take your friend and you will return to the barracks," he said. He shocked himself with how smoothly the words came from his mouth.

The cadet glanced up at him—gray eyes indeed meeting gray eyes—but hurriedly looked back down. "I…I understand, sir. I understand if you don't want me in your squa—"

" _And_ you will arrive tomorrow for drills at eight o'clock. Do not be late."

Though she managed to disguise it as resolution, relief flooded into Tsukiko's eyes. "Thank you, sir. We will leave you now."

Another nonverbal from their captain, and the squad members moved aside for the dark-haired girl, who, without another word, marched forward, seized her sobbing friend from the floor, and hauled her away to the nearest exit.

Ignoring the apologies from his squad members for allowing in such loud intruders, Byakuya stared down the hall at the space where Tsukiko had been long after her image disappeared. He had just locked eyes with the daughter he had never thought he'd see again.

 _It would seem that if you don't pursue closure, closure pursues you_ , Senbonzakura said, his voice soft and matter of fact.

 _That's the problem_ , Byakuya said. He turned back to his office. _I thought I had closure. I'd locked up the matter and thrown away the key._

_Well, the key just came back. Will you carry her close to your heart or toss her away again?_

_…I don't know._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I plan on biweekly (i.e., every two weeks) updates, though I may occasionally be a little early or late because, y’know, life and all. Turns out it’s a little easier for me to keep up a schedule than I thought. :D


	4. Chapter 4

“Mortified doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling right now, you downright _ass_....”

Emi was too busy smiling like the fangirl she was and examining her Byakuya photo collection on the floor of Squad Thirteen’s barracks. “He looked at me....”

“Only because you threw yourself at him!” Tsukiko flung her arms up in frustration and scoffed. “You are such an idiot! He’s my _captain_ for crying out loud! How am I going to face him tomorrow? You wanna explain one that to me, dumbass?”

A pleasant look still about her, Emi said, “Well, darling, you just face him. It’s really not that hard.”

Tsukiko somehow overcame the urge to choke her.

“Besides,” Emi continued, “he invited you back, bright and early and all. It’s not like you were kicked out of the squad or anything.”

Plopping down on Emi’s bed, Tsukiko sighed and rubbed her eyes. “You’re missing the point. You single-handedly destroyed what little reputation I may have had, and now I’m left picking up the pieces. I swear, if you get me kicked out—”

Emi stood up and flopped herself on top of Tsukiko, driving the breath right out of her friend with a gentle smile on her lips. “Tsukiko, my dearest, most wound-up friend, _stop overthinking this shit_.”

A series of angry-sounding gasps was the answer.

Laughing, Emi lay across Tsukiko’s legs and gazed up at the ceiling. “Captain Kuchiki’s really not going to kick you out because of me. Even if he does, you’ll just get transferred to another squad. It’s not like they shank you and heave you out of the ranks because your psycho friend has a crush on your captain.”

For what must have been the nine thousandth time since the start of their friendship, Tsukiko wondered if she should be concerned or reassured that Emi was aware of her indecencies. As the second oldest of the main line of the Kontori clan, Emi was technically a lesser noble, but given her family’s reputation for screaming at walls and using vivisection as means of casual entertainment, a vast majority of the Soul Society chose to forget they held some power. Emi, though, was exceptionally tame for a Kontori, bearing what many thought of as high-level eccentricities. Case in point: the obsession with Kuchiki Byakuya.

But, for the time being, Tsukiko slowly found herself accepting Emi’s reasoning. Withdrawing her legs, she lightly sat them across Emi’s torso and looked up at the ceiling. “You know, I still can’t believe it, that we’re full-fledged Shinigami starting tomorrow.”

Emi smiled. “Yeah, it’s nuts. I remember walking into my first class at the Academy like it was yesterday…. Time sure does fly when you’re decimating Hollows, am I right?”

“Oh yeah.”

“I just wonder what the other Captain Kuchiki is going to be like. I mean, I know she’s a war veteran and general badass, but that doesn’t mean she’s a good leader at home base.”

Tsukiko tilted her head as she contemplated Emi’s captain-to-be. “I see your point,” she said, “though from what I’ve heard she’s really fair. There was definitely that scandal with Kurosaki-sensei a couple of years ago, but otherwise she’s a good captain, and person I guess.”

Emi screwed her mouth into a questioning look. “I dunno…. Captain Kuchiki always seems so worried about her, like she can’t do much.”

And there it was. “You can’t seriously have developed an opinion of Captain Kuchiki based purely on what…the other Captain Kuchiki thinks? How do you know those aren’t just rumors left over from years ago?”

“Because Kuchiki Byakuya is a pillar of perfection and anything he thinks or says is law!”

“Pardon me for calling bullshit, but I call bullshit.”

“You’re bullshit!”

Tsukiko simply waved a hand, tuning out the subsequent rant on just how perfect Kuchiki Byakuya really was.

\--

Tsukiko was very early the next morning, but she’d rather have it that way. Frequent anxieties about being late had kept her up most of the night until a blissful, blank slumber removed her from it all for a solid four hours. Now, through the yawns and wishes for some strong coffee, Hokutan Tsukiko awaited her first test as a real Shinigami.

Mild stirrings alerted her to others also milling about before drills began, though none had yet to fully reveal themselves, making her suddenly self-conscious where she stood in the training field. As if her new presence wasn’t enough, now she was definitely a rookie for showing up first. Tsukiko mentally slapped herself, but just as soon as the equally as figurative pain set in, she reasoned with herself that she was doing this right. Besides, better to show Captain Kuchiki she was willing and eager to begin rather than late and intent on testing his patience.

Moments later, Lieutenant Abarai materialized from within the barracks, doing very little to hide an enormous yawn. Though his red hair and tattoos were a well-established fact of Seireitei life, Tsukiko had never seen him before in person, and it was only after a few seconds had passed that she realized she was staring. Chastising herself once again, Tsukiko looked away.

Select other squad members filed in after Lieutenant Abarai, all in varying states of exhaustion. However, they quickly realized they had a rookie in their midst and turned both gentle and condescending looks upon Tsukiko.

“Ooh, new blood,” said a man with a smile all too similar to a smirk.

“Cut it out, Nakajima, you’ll scare the poor thing,” said a blond woman.

Finding herself unsure of how to respond, Tsukiko quickly plastered an uneasy smile across her face and hoped it would somehow suffice. “H-hi…,” she mumbled.

But soon enough, the other rookies joined the gathering crowd, and the pressure set on Tsukiko abated some. She let out a long sigh after one of the newbs made a fool of himself by reciting all the Kido spells he was already capable of, and quietly prayed for Captain Kuchiki to arrive. Surely then the squad would straighten out and bring their taunts to a minimum.

However, when eight o’clock at last rolled around, it was not Captain Kuchiki but Lieutenant Abarai, his braided hair swinging behind him like a rope, who approached the front of the group and called for their attention. “All right, good morning and shut up!” he announced as the conversations before him died down. “Captain Kuchiki had something else going on and asked me to lead the morning’s drills, so everyone, assemble!”

Assemble? Like those Avengers or whatever? What was that supposed to mean? Tsukiko nervously looked around as the seasoned squad members organized themselves into even rows and columns, the newer members taking it upon themselves to edge onto the outskirts of the array and watching in confusion equal to hers.

Thankfully, though, Lieutenant Abarai waved them in. He didn’t smile, but his eyes were kind and bright, shining like jasper in the morning sunlight. “Rookies, whenever Captain Kuchiki or I say ‘assemble,’ that means arrange yourselves in alphabetical order. Gimme your names and we’ll get you sorted out real quick….”

A few minutes later, having been properly situated between the smiling Hirota and blasé Honda, Tsukiko was beginning to feel just a little better about this whole experience. So far she hadn’t been harassed too badly, and Lieutenant Abarai did seem intent on integrating the rookies without flaying them. The only true complaint Tsukiko had was that Captain Kuchiki wasn’t present to see her willingness to make up for yesterday’s mistake. Where was he at all, really? Daring to extend her reiatsu out some, Tsukiko read the air around her. Naturally she received feedback on her squad fellows, but aside from a larger flare at the front of the field signaling the lieutenant stationed there, there wasn’t anything that reported Captain Kuchiki was near Squad Six headquarters. Pulling her reiatsu back in, her breath somewhat shortened, Tsukiko pushed the thought away. _No use turning into Emi, worrying about Captain Kuchiki like this._

And so began a quick series of warmups. Lieutenant Abarai led them through easy stretches and a few tai chi calisthenics, all the while quelling any complaints about this “human crap” with the excuse tai chi was a decent exercise in both breath and muscle control, to hell with your complaints, Shimomura, and wipe your damn nose. The light laughter that flowed over the group further eased Tsukiko, and she managed to crack a small smile.

However, the gentle nature of the morning worked itself up in difficulty from then on. Tsukiko was no stranger to tests of endurance from the Academy, but there was something distinctly different about those imposed upon actual Shinigami. Though she was physically capable, a mental sort of block was slowly making itself more and more apparent, telling her she was so far out of her league she may as well be in the World of the Living. Tsukiko reasoned it was only her first day, and that meant she was just wary of the unexpected, but by the time Lieutenant Abarai demanded they break into pairs for sparring, Tsukiko was panting, and hard. Sure, everyone was a little short of breath, but she and the other rookies were especially worn out. Still, determined not to give the seasoned squad members significant reason to taunt her, Tsukiko pressed on. Her determination proved short-lived, however, when she found herself facing the bored-looking Honda.

“Um, h-hi?” she offered, nervously bowing to her sparring partner. She unsheathed her unnamed asauchi.

Honda merely bowed back and withdrew his Zanpaku-to, the handguard shaped like a semicircle.

Tsukiko gulped and steeled herself for Honda’s first attack, surprising herself with how well she managed to keep her balance from the sheer force of his blow. But this reassurance quickly passed. Hit after hit after hit came flying her way, and it was all Tsukiko could do to make sure that sharp blade didn’t hit her. The voice of an old professor told her she should seek the patterns in her attacker, but this was far different than the relatively lazy sparring exercises she knew from the Academy. Though this may just be training, this was still very much a fight with a true and experienced Shinigami, and she was drastically unprepared.

Either unwilling to acknowledge her level or simply uncaring, Honda pressed harder, his face set in a cool look of determination. For the life of her Tsukiko couldn’t tell if he was dumbing all this down for her or not, but it didn’t matter. Honda was swinging his sword left and right, up and down, each strike carefully controlled and prepared in the milliseconds he left between them. A light spray of sparks flew from the blades as they met time and time again, and the sound of metal scraping against metal electrified the air.

A sudden thought occurred to Tsukiko: _Is this what battle is like?_ Real swords battling real swords, with death running between them all? A pang of panic caused her arm to slip, and Honda’s blade slid right past hers and to her neck—

“HAAAAALT!” cried Lieutenant Abarai. “Switch partners, and make it snappy—and Shimomura, would it _kill_ you to get a fucking tissue? Hell on a stick, man, you’re a _mess_ ….”

Trembling hard as Honda pulled his Zanpaku-to back, once again passing the exposed skin on her neck, Tsukiko fought the weakness in her knees and forced herself to remain standing. Honda simply bowed in her direction and went off to seek another sparring partner, leaving her shaking in the middle of the training field.

Later on, Tsukiko would’ve liked to have said things improved after that, but as she showered that evening and found countless bruises and cuts scattered across her aching body, she knew better than to fool herself. Even though she managed to survive sparring, then target practice, then the small disaster she was supposed to call sword meditation (she’d fallen asleep and started snoring), Tsukiko couldn’t help but feel a little bitter about the day’s events. More than anything she was disappointed in herself for not performing better. Surely she knew she wasn’t going to be a model squad member on her first day, but all she had experienced was a brutal reminder of how far she still had to go before she could consider herself fully capable.

Wincing the entire time, Tsukiko turned off the water and dried herself off. She hastily threw on her robe, ran a brush through her hair, and thought of how much she looked forward to going to bed. But as she left the showers for the barracks, from the other side of the room came Lieutenant Abarai, naked from the waist up. His long red hair was unbraided and sprawled across his shoulders, dripping water on the jagged tattoos covering his muscular torso. All thoughts of slumber now vanished from her mind, Tsukiko paused, eyeing the tattoos with wide eyes. They were the exact same style as those on Lieutenant Abarai’s neck and forehead, but seeing them on a larger scale like this….

“No staring at the higher ups, rookie,” Lieutenant Abarai said, walking past her and down the hall. “We’re not animals at the zoo.”

Tsukiko jolted back to the present. “M-my apologies, Lieutenant!” she said to her superior’s just as tattooed back. “I was only—”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, turning his head. “Just don’t let me catch you next time.” He smirked and faced the hallway again.

Tsukiko felt her cheeks darken, and her heart began to beat as erratically as the jagged tattoos on Lieutenant Abarai’s back. _Get a grip of yourself_ , she thought, but that did nothing for her as she watched her lieutenant until he turned the corner.

 _Pathetic_ , she told herself, flustered. Now she was the rookie who showed up early _and_ had a staring problem. Like she needed more reason to reflect poorly on her day….

But were those tattoos really contributing to her bad day?

Shaking her head, Tsukiko limped her sore, sorry self down the hall and to the barracks, where she painfully changed into a night shirt and passed out in seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick shout out to everyone who’s favorited, followed, and/or reviewed “The Heiress” so far! Thank you very much for taking a liking to it, as well as my other story, “The Knot Unravels”! You all get a virtual cookie of your choice!
> 
> (For those who are worried about the new POV: it’s aight, Byakuya comes back next chapter, though I will be switching back and forth between him and Tsukiko for the rest of the story.)


	5. Chapter 5

_Hear me Hisana I beseech you give me a sign of what I should do please Hisana_

He lit the incense, met his hands before him, and prayed. For hours. Imploring Hisana’s image in the family shrine for guidance. Anything that would prove what she wanted. Hisana’s voice had brought Tsukiko back to him, and it could only be her voice that told him what to do next.

_Our daughter is back Hisana how may I help her how may I help our child please tell me_

Would Tsukiko even want anything to do with him? After all, she had lived most of her life without either of her parents. Perhaps she had found a new family in Hokutan, was adopted by parents who gave her everything she needed to be happy. Who knew what had happened after he’d let her go?

_I promise I will make this right please Hisana I beg of you tell me what I must do_

When Hisana didn’t respond, he lit incense for his father. He too had lost his father at a young age, though the circumstances were certainly different than Tsukiko’s. But he was desperate for anything, no matter the slim chance of receiving paternal advice.

_Tou-san your grandchild has returned after I let her go I must do better by Tsukiko help me Tou-san_

Nothing. He lit incense for his mother.

_Kaa-san the granddaughter you never met is again with her father but I don’t know what I must do_

Nothing. Not from his grandmother, his uncles, his aunts, or any other of his ancestors.

He circled back to Hisana.

_My dear Hisana I am her father but I am not her father I did so much wrong but I will make this right what would you have me do for Tsukiko in your name Hisana_

He had no right to call himself her father. What parent places themself before their child? He was selfish, having dissolved any relationship he’d had with his daughter before it could properly begin. Now what was he?

_You’re her captain, too_

His eyes flew open.

As he left the shrine, the sun began to bloom on the horizon.

\--

Senbonzakura was, to put it lightly, very upset. _Does addressing the Tsukiko situation really forgive offering your recruits a subpar first impression?_ Senbonzakura said furiously. _Here’s a hint: NO._

Byakuya outwardly blinked, but internally he let out the deepest of sighs. _I’m well aware of the consequences, but I need to do this today,_ he responded.

_You can’t wait until tomorrow? What is twenty-four hours to a Shinigami?_

Byakuya rolled his eyes, ignoring the strain to his tired eye sockets. _You act as though my new recruits will never come to know me. Maybe this is me showing them what a normal day in Squad Six looks like, one where their captain, their_ superior _, comes and goes without fanfare._

_Utter nonsense. You have a reputation, and you’re letting it crumble over something you’re not even certain of._

Byakuya scoffed. _Wasn’t it you who wanted me to contact Tsukiko?_

_I wanted a solution, not the shirking of duty or whatever it is you’re up to._

_This is a solution, Senbonzakura. Hisana spoke to me and I need to listen. This is out of my hands—_

_Then snatch it back, you imbecile!_

Senbonzakura quieted only when Byakuya made it to Squad Six headquarters. He quickly scanned the courtyard and training field, but there was no one else in sight. Thankful for the solitude—never mind the ranting spirit in his head—Byakuya marched to the lieutenant’s quarters and, despite the fatigue in his arms, rapped hard on Renji’s door. “Renji, get up,” Byakuya said, projecting his voice through the wood.

A barely responsive grumble met Byakuya’s ears.

“I said get up, you baboon.” Byakuya’s attempts to quell a yawn were in vain.

“You’re a baboon….”

In seconds the yawn was gone. “Get up this instant, Abarai.”

Muffled expletives suddenly littered the air, quieting only when Renji threw open the door in a haze of sleep-frizzed hair and morning breath.

“Captain—oof, you look like hell—I am so sorry,” Renji began, hastily pulling his robe closed. “It’s just so early—”

“Save it,” Byakuya said. “You are leading drills this morning.”

Renji raised a tattooed eyebrow. “Captain, it’s the newbies’ first day,” he said. “You always make a speech—”

“You are giving the speech today. I have other things to attend to.”

Renji’s eyebrow didn’t shift down in the least as he glanced behind him at his clock. “Captain, it’s half past six.” He turned back to Byakuya. “You can’t hold off until after—?”

“Take over this morning and I might forgive you calling me a baboon,” Byakuya said, turning away from his lieutenant and marching down the hall.

“I only said it because you called me a baboon!” Renji said, though it immediately became apparent he was only talking to the back of Byakuya’s head. “Oh, fine, but I’m not giving a stupid speech!”

\--

Having saddled Renji with welcoming the new recruits, Byakuya took his time going over to the Squad Thirteen headquarters. As with most of his walks, his speed was casual and betrayed nothing of his thoughts or exhaustion, one of the reasons he frequently chose long walks over intensive personal training to vent his emotions. He placed so much effort in keeping himself serene and nonchalant that the effect inevitably traveled to his mind.

He was also really, really tired.

Despite his leisurely pace, Byakuya’s senses went on high alert when he reached Squad Thirteen headquarters. His heart began to race, the blood pounding in his ears as though he were about to enter battle. He would’ve chastised himself for getting this worked up over a conversation, but this was territory that stretched beyond just him. Byakuya was reaching into the very depths of the past, where his actions lay buried under layers and layers of earth. At long last the full truth of the matter was to come out, but getting there…getting there….

“Well, if it ain’t the man himself.”

Byakuya’s anxiety abated just enough for pure irritation to take over. Its trigger was sauntering over, black shihakusho contrasting with a shock of bright orange hair in a figure the Seireitei respectfully called “Kurosaki-sensei” but Byakuya thought of as “Kurosaki-brat.” Byakuya had no reason to be surprised to see him—this _was_ Rukia’s husband—but all the same, a chance meeting with Kurosaki Ichigo was the very last thing he needed.

Clearing his throat and allowing an air of noble reasoning to consume him, Byakuya responded steadily enough. “And if it isn’t the boy himself.”

Ichigo laughed light-heartedly, though he was sure to fire an irritated smirk at his brother-in-law. “I told Rukia becoming family wouldn’t change a thing. But if you’re here for Rukia, she’s a little tied up at the moment.”

“My business with Rukia does not concern you, Kurosaki. Now, if you will excuse me, I must meet with her.”

“No, Byakuya, she’s seriously tied up.”

“Pardon?”

Ichigo offered Byakuya a very deliberate look of patience, as if he were explaining multiplication to a four-year-old. “Rukia is wrapped up in a bunch of rope. The squad grabbed her, which really isn’t that surprising, they have been looking a little mutinous lately….”

Byakuya’s sleep-deprived mind only registered a threat to his sister. “Rukia is tied up and you left her?”

Ichigo shrugged. “Well, yeah, they’re underlings. It can’t be that hard to—”

“I take back my blessing.” And with that, Byakuya and the bags under his eyes raced off to Rukia’s office, mentally cursing Ichigo’s blatant inconsideration the entire way.

“Byakuya, that’s like the four millionth time you’ve unblessed my marriage—Hey, where are you going? Byakuya, I was messing with you!”

As if it mattered.

Seconds later, Rukia’s door was thrown open as the seething Byakuya let himself in, only to find a very surprised Rukia calmly sitting at her desk with a cup of tea raised nearly to her lips. They were otherwise quite alone.

“Um…good morning, Nii-sama...?” Rukia said after a very awkward beat.

Blinking but once, Byakuya closed the door and made the decision to sit. “Good morning to you as well,” he said.

Rukia continued to eye Byakuya carefully. “Is everything okay? You rushed in like you thought I was….” She trailed off as something like wisdom prevented her from digging any further. “Well, never mind.” She quickly set her tea down. “What brings you here this morning? Not that I ever don’t want to see you! B-because you’re still my brother and I…I….”

Byakuya couldn’t help but feel he’d had better conversations with a cactus. “Right,” he said, carrying on quickly. “I came to you this morning because I…nedurdviss....”

“What was that?” Rukia asked, her brother’s mumbling churning his words left and right.

A quiet sigh. “I need…your advice.”

Shock didn’t even begin to cover the look that crossed Rukia’s face. This was simply annihilating the natural order of things, Byakuya asking _her_ for advice. And about what? Drawing, perhaps? Oh, but what to say! He had always been such a better artist than her, absolutely nothing could compare to the might of the Seaweed Ambassador—

“I would like to ask if it would be foolish of me to personally train one of my subordinates.”

…There were three possible answers to Byakuya’s question, Rukia felt. The first would be to inquire about his health, all things considered; however, because she respected her brother and a majority of his decisions, Rukia dropped that idea. The second option was to ask for clarification on whether it was all right for any captain to personally train a subordinate, or just Byakuya, the latter situation perhaps leading back to Rukia’s initial answer, considering Captain Kuchiki Byakuya simply didn’t care about his squad members enough to personally train them willy-nilly. The third answer seemed far more logical, then: respond truthfully, regardless of specifics.

Clearing her throat, Rukia said, “It is a bit different from your usual approach, but I don’t think it would be foolish at all. If you really think one of your squad members has that much potential, it would do them a lot of good to have one-on-one training.” She smiled delicately. “That, and it would certainly make you a bit more approachable—n-not that you aren’t already or anything, it’s just...um....”

“You needn’t fret over the details, Rukia,” Byakuya said, “though you are mostly correct about my reasoning.”

“Oh?” Rukia leaned closer to her brother. “Is it an older squad member? Someone close to achieving Bankai? That would certainly be exciting.”

Byakuya made it a point to avoid all eye contact with his sister. “Not quite: this squad member is a new recruit. I wish to train her due to a fair amount of potential I believe she has.”

It slowly became clear to Rukia why Byakuya asked if his intentions may be foolish. In any squad, most members showed potential; it was just the way of things, not even specific to Shinigami or the Soul Society. However, unless a squad member demonstrated prowess well beyond their years, generally personal training with a captain was considered wasted time, unnecessary, and mildly suspect. For Byakuya as a captain to take an interest in one of his newest rookies based on skill she _might_ have was strange. For Byakuya as a person to take an interest in one of his latest recruits was exceptionally strange.

Phrasing her next question carefully, Rukia asked, “Nii-sama, what has this recruit done that makes you want to hone her potential?”

Byakuya closed his eyes. “I understand how odd the situation may seem, but....” There was no excuse or lie he was willing to fabricate and feed his sister. “Rukia, I know over the years I have made it clear there are no more secrets between you and I. I have been honest with any questions you have had about your sister, the Kuchiki name, what have you. But I ask you one last time to forgive me, for I am guilty once more of withholding information from you.”

Rukia tried not to let her disappointment show. Byakuya was of course entitled to keeping things to himself, but what was she to learn about herself or her adopted family now?

She leaned back in her chair. “Nii-sama, I will let you speak, but...do I have another sister?”

Byakuya shook his head, keeping his eyes closed. “No, but there is another family member you should know about.” His eyes opened then, staring intently at the opposing wall.

“You are an aunt, Rukia.”

“No.” Rukia gasped at her instant response and quickly covered her mouth. “No, Nii-sama, that’s not what I meant!”

Byakuya’s hard gaze shifted downward. “You weren’t expecting it. I never gave you any reason to suspect this. Your reaction is perfectly acceptable.”

“No, it’s not, it’s—” She stopped herself short, looking at Byakuya with new eyes as the news truly settled in. “I’m an aunt? Are you sure? When did—? With whom—?”

Byakuya raised his hand for her silence. “Yes, Rukia, you are an aunt through Hisana and I. Not even were, are. Your niece is alive, though she knows nothing of her true family. You may ask why.”

Because she didn’t know when else she’d get the chance, and because Byakuya clearly wanted to get it over with, Rukia asked.

“She was born Kuchiki Tsukiko the autumn before Hisana’s death. Hisana’s health was already failing when she initially became pregnant, but she knew she wanted to be with her child as long as she could.” He did not once look away from the wall. “Regrettably, that was but a handful of months, and soon I was Tsukiko’s only parent. However, between mourning Hisana as I did and preparing for my captaincy as I was, I could not provide for her as a true parent. Her mother was already gone, and I wasn’t there either. Thus, I sent Tsukiko and her nursemaid to live in Rukongai.”

Byakuya carefully brought his gaze to Rukia’s face, watching her expression waver from one emotion to the next. He continued. “I don’t have formal proof it’s her, but yesterday I met a new squad member who could very well be her. She….” He shook his head, not quite ashamed but not fully comfortable. “She looks like me.”

Rukia closed her eyes. Details and speculations were coming in far too quickly, but there was no reason to feel Byakuya was not telling the truth. And as much information as her brother had kept from her over the years, she knew he was the farthest thing from a liar.

She dared to meet his eyes. “Nii-sama,” she began, “as much as I understand why you feel obligated to personally train Tsukiko, what do you mean to accomplish by it? Will you eventually tell her who she is?”

Byakuya turned his gaze away once more. His honest answer? He didn’t have one. It just seemed the proper thing to do, training Tsukiko himself, especially after receiving Hisana’s guidance. What that would lead to was not something he had yet considered, or at least not openly.

“Nii-sama?”

He gently shook his head. “Rukia, I don’t believe I will be following through with this after all,” Byakuya said. He stood up and made for the door.

“Nii-sama, no, that’s not what I meant,” Rukia said as she too stood.

“I know that, but your words have given me something to consider.” The answer was obvious now: Drawing Tsukiko closer would utterly annihilate all he had done to make sure she was given a better alternative than what he could have provided her. For him to train her would be a selfish move, something that would only end up with her hurt. He could still be Tsukiko’s captain without bringing her close. Didn’t Rukia see that now?

Except she didn’t, and Byakuya felt her hand grasp his sleeve just as he opened the door—

—revealing a startled and bewildered Kurosaki.

“…So,” Ichigo said, “does this make me an uncle?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw if you haven’t already, imma do a self-plug and recommend you read my other story, “The Knot Unravels.” It explains a couple things that will come up in the next chapter, as well as things in the existing chapters (also I’m still salty that IchiRuki didn’t make the canon no I can’t be convinced otherwise yes I know I’m petty).


	6. Chapter 6

When one opens a dictionary, as well as generally any book, there are blank pages in the front and back of it where certain signatures were not completely filled during printing. In a normal book, they serve no purpose except to grow stained over the years or hold notes from attentive, studious readers who wish to save their revelations for a later date. With a dictionary, however, any blank pages are symbolic of those words which have not yet been given expression. They are not even truly words, rather sensations and phenomena without specificity. They are the unknown waiting for definition.

It was somewhere within these blank dictionary pages that Captain Kuchiki Byakuya was currently existing. Mortified, livid, exasperated—nothing came close to defining the stream of emotions pounding through his veins as he looked at the guilty expression on his brother-in-law’s face. He could not even reassure himself Kurosaki had heard only a little because Kurosaki had asked for verification as an uncle. The very first thing Byakuya had told Rukia was she was an aunt, and it was only logical for Kurosaki as her husband to be an uncle. Which in turn meant Kurosaki had heard his confession, and his confusion, and his refusal to believe in his confession, and now here they all were, tangled up in yet another rotten mess caused by Kuchiki Byakuya.

Daring to speak, Rukia carefully positioned herself between her brother and husband. “Nii-sama,” she said slowly, “why don’t we all just sit down and clear up everything? Would that work?”

Byakuya’s jaw stiffened. “There isn’t anything _to_ clarify,” he said.

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. “I disagree. It sounded like you were backing out of your plan there, Byakuya. I didn’t think you were that weak.”

Swallowing the very strong desire to maul him, Byakuya affixed Ichigo with a classic Kuchiki Death Stare. “You act as though this is an easy fix, Kurosaki.”

Kurosaki ignored the Death Stare as only he could. “Aaaand it would be, except you’re being Byakuya about it and dragging it out in the name of pride.”

“When have I ever extended a problem out of self-preservation?”

“Are you actually serious, you prick?”

“Watch your words, boy—”

“You almost let Rukia die!”

“The scar on my chest and I would like to remind you she did not actually die.”

“Yeah, because that forgives everything else you did—!”

“Enough!” shouted Rukia, holding her hands up abruptly. “Nii-sama, Ichigo, I invite you two yet again to sit down so we can handle the issue _civilly_ and _professionally_.” Though her hard look was aimed at Ichigo, Rukia did let it pass over Byakuya for a moment. Once the two got the message and were seated in opposite chairs, Rukia closed the door to her office and sat behind her desk.

“All right,” she began. “So we’re all aware of the situation and what can be done about it. Nii-sama, what do you wish to do?”

Byakuya sat up straighter. “I stand by my decision to _not_ personally train Hokutan Tsukiko.”

“Bullshit!” yelled Ichigo. “You can’t just back out like that! She’s your daughter!”

“Ichigo,” warned Rukia.

Byakuya’s eyes narrowed at his brother-in-law. “Kurosaki, it has been established your opinion does not matter here. Now quiet yourself.”

Ichigo shot out of his seat, an indignant fist raised in protest, but Rukia immediately reached over her desk and forced him back down.

She then turned to her brother. “Nii-sama, I understand that you feel this is a situation you should handle alone, but I think it would be wise to hear another opinion. You don’t have to agree with it,” she said quickly when Byakuya began to scowl, “but it will at least give you a chance to hear another side of things.”

Byakuya continued to scowl but said nothing in response. He hated to admit it, but Rukia was right, and while Kurosaki could act like a child and shout his thoughts left and right, Byakuya could behave like an actual adult—even if he really didn’t want to.

“Ichigo, go ahead, but _please_ try to be considerate.”

Kurosaki rolled his eyes but did as told. “Byakuya, I get why you’re hesitant, but I don’t think this is the way to go. She’s your kid, and she’s come back to you for a reason. This is an _opportunity_. For all you know, she has questions she’s dying to have answered, but now they’ll never be because her old man refuses to give her the time of day!”

“Ichigo, calm down,” Rukia warned.

Despite disagreeing with Kurosaki on general principle, Byakuya was listening. To a degree, he fully agreed that he owed Tsukiko an explanation. But what about his dream, where Hisana’s voice, great and booming, warned against any move he might make to bring Tsukiko closer? What of his prayers, where Hisana gave him a clear middle ground that permitted his connection to Tsukiko? Was he really willing to risk hurting the daughter he gave up to avoid just that, hurting her?

This was why she was better off without knowing. Riddled with holes though her story may be, he steadfastly believed that she was happier where she was. She didn’t need him tearing down the rest of her life while he filled in those holes.

Byakuya was about to deliver his verdict when Ichigo began to speak, but this time his voice was quieter. “Can I tell you something about me and Hisa-chan?” he asked.

Byakuya looked from Ichigo to Rukia. Ichigo’s eyes were serious and sad, Rukia’s wide and wary.

He nodded.

Ichigo sighed and lifted a hand to the back of his head. “I know I, unlike you, had no idea she existed,” he said, “but I wish I had known Hisana was my daughter the moment she was born. Hell, even before that.” He extended his free hand to Rukia without looking and squeezed her arm. “I fully understand why that didn’t happen, and I’m not bitter about it, but I regret losing time with her. Now, even though we’re still playing catch up and our lives are being rewritten and all that, I treasure every single moment I have with my daughter as her father.” This time he looked right at Rukia, whose face had fallen. “Rukia, I don’t blame you for what happened. But this is something that crosses my mind a lot.”

Rukia swallowed. “I’m sorry…” she whispered.

Byakuya politely left the couple to their reflections. So Kurosaki regretted not being there for Hisana from the beginning. Did _he_ feel the same way about Tsukiko? The answer was a resounding yes. Did he regret having to put her in a position where her life was to be “rewritten,” as Kurosaki put it? Another solid yes. More importantly, he also knew what his niece continued to go through, learning that Renji was not actually her father. Every time she visited him at work, Byakuya could see her gazing longingly at Renji and Renji longingly back at her. They clearly wanted to restore their relationship, but neither knew how or if it was allowed. And then with Ichigo, though he was Hisana’s real father, neither was ever one hundred percent certain how to proceed with the other. They knew to be respectful, and heaven knew they could have fun together, but they’d lost just enough time that comfort together was not theirs. Was he willing to accept that his relationship with Tsukiko might be the same, or worse?

 _Comfort together is not theirs_ yet, _Byakuya_ , Senbonzakura said, breaking his reverie.

 _You’re not here to scold me again?_ Byakuya answered.

_We’ll return to that later, but wasn’t it almost immediately that Kurosaki and Hisana-chan learned how to train together? That paved the way to the relationship they have now, and it’s only been two years. They have more time to get to know each other, and Hisana and Renji also have time to get to re-know one another._

_But have Tsukiko and I lost too much time?_

_Only time will tell. Ch, if I were Yoruichi, I’d say you’re always in such a rush, Byaku-bo…._

_Don’t even start with me—_

“Nii-sama?”

“Byakuya? You still with us?”

Byakuya’s tired eyes pulled dryly as he rapidly blinked them back into focus, and both Ichigo and Rukia looked concerned.

“Nii-sama?” Rukia asked again.

Byakuya waved a hand at her concern. Yes, he wanted to move forward as fast as he could, if only to do away with this nonsense just that much sooner, but maybe it was time to admit that speed wasn’t everything. His relationship with Tsukiko would play out as it would, at a speed he might not be able to control. Not everything in life was intended to be fast.

And wouldn’t it be a dishonor to Hisana, Tsukiko’s mother and the one who first taught him to slow down at all, if he didn’t give himself the chance to do so?

Byakuya sighed. “All right,” he said. “I’ve reconsidered.”

Ichigo smiled triumphantly. “I win. Again.”

Byakuya decidedly let the comment go. “I see no harm in training Hokutan Tsukiko for the genuine abilities she does have,” he continued. “If I feel along the way that she can handle knowing the truth of her heritage, I will tell her. If I feel that withholding it would be the better option, there’s no harm in giving her extra instruction as a Shinigami. Do you two agree that’s fair?”

Ichigo and Rukia both nodded, now smiling in full support.

“Then let that be that.” Byakuya rose from his chair. “I would request that neither of you raise this topic again unless I do so first. And Kurosaki.” He turned to Ichigo and glared something fierce. “You learned of this thanks to no less than your unusually large ears and penchant for mischief. May your mouth prove to be significantly smaller, lest I hear you’ve been informing others….”

“I’ll only tell Ichika-san,” Ichigo said, attempting and, as Byakuya saw it, failing at humor; the last time Ichigo and Ichika “spoke,” they’d both needed stitches afterward.

Moving past Ichigo’s comment, Byakuya turned his eyes on Rukia. “I take my leave,” he said. “May your new recruits prove significantly less worrisome than mine.”

Rukia nodded. “Good luck, Nii-sama. With everything.”

Without another word, Byakuya left his sister’s office and immediately made for the Kuchiki manor, where he may finally sleep and leave reality, if only for a few hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TL;DR Byakuya’s really bad at just doing things.


	7. Chapter 7

One month of training saw Tsukiko’s skills (and general fatigue) rise even in just that short amount of time. Where she had once dreaded waking up to morning training, she now accepted it, even willingly after a good night’s rest. Her Kido abilities had remained much the same, but what she could do had become more refined, especially now that she knew to keep her muscles “spry,” as Captain Kuchiki had said the one time he’d spoken to her directly since Emi’s invasion. Her Hakudo had suddenly become passable, and she even once clipped the blasé Honda’s chin, bringing a grimace and then a sneer to his usually bored expression.

Yes, she paid dearly after that, but her little victory was one she cherished and viewed as a mark of her exposure to the “big dogs.”

Even her swordsmanship had developed. Certainly not her best skill, Tsukiko was able to hold her own longer than ten minutes now, something she knew would aid her greatly if she were to face a stronger opponent than a sparring partner or Emi when they were able to train together.

However, the one thing Tsukiko was most concerned about remained the same: sword meditation. For all her efforts, she still couldn’t grasp the meditation basics or focus long enough to feel much of anything about her innermost power. Admittedly, no other rookie was capable of such resonance, but at least after their meditation sessions they walked away feeling, as they put it, “better, at peace, like I could run a mile.” They couldn’t all be lying, could they?

“Eh, they probably are,” Emi had told her the day before, casually lying on her side in the Squad Six barracks. Tsukiko was sitting on her bed, sewing together a hole that had appeared in what she still considered a new shihakusho.

“I know lying is normal where you come from, but I think you’re wrong there,” Tsukiko responded, pulling the needle through to close a new stitch.

“Well, I for one won’t lie when I say that you’re doing your best, so you probably have nothing to worry about.” Emi pulled her leg up and scratched her ankle. “Or just make stuff up. No one will know the difference.”

“I’m not that good an actress,” Tsukiko said, rolling her eyes, but then she stopped. “Emi, what does it feel like when _you_ meditate?”

Emi shrugged. “I feel like I’m getting tired, to be honest, but then there’s like a pulse…. I don’t really know how to describe it.”

“A pulse?”

“Yeah. It’s like actual electricity though.” Emi sat up and crossed her legs. “I know that’s kinda vague, but it feels like lightning or something. It doesn’t last long, just a little flash, but it’s not me catching myself falling asleep. I don’t even jolt. It’s like in my heart.”

“Sure that’s not just a heart palpitation?”

Emi snorted. “I’ve seen your captain at close range. Believe me, after that I _know_ when I’m about to have a heart attack. Speaking of….”

On she went asking Tsukiko for the latest news on Captain Kuchiki. She’d had an absolute field day when Tsukiko told her about Captain Kuchiki giving her a direct critique, but after that, the most to report was nothing out of the ordinary. If anything, after that Tsukiko felt that Captain Kuchiki was avoiding her. She couldn’t be that important to ignore—it was probably just him attending to literally everything else in his life—but it sometimes felt that if she were walking one way and Captain Kuchiki the other, he’d turn right back around so they didn’t pass each other. Did he forget something? Did he see someone else behind her that he was actually avoiding? Did she just smell really bad? Whatever it was, Tsukiko didn’t let herself dwell on it too much.

_Schedule’s packed enough as it is_ , she always reminded herself.

As part of that schedule, one day during her rare free time, Tsukiko went on the hunt not for her captain, but her lieutenant. She’d made it a point not to raise her head above her squad fellows after the staring incident, though whether because he’d chosen to move on or simply forgotten about it, Lieutenant Abarai didn’t treat her any different than the other squad members.

Well, he didn’t treat her any different than the other rookies. Lieutenant Abarai was definitely gruff, but Tsukiko sensed he wanted to make the new recruits feel welcome. He’d bark out a critique on a rookie’s stance, endurance, anything, then immediately advise them on how to improve. At other times, he’d watch as Captain Kuchiki berated another rookie on their parries, then swoop in and tell them what to fix for next time before backing away, like he’d offered no such support.

Sometimes, when she was waiting in the brief lull between consciousness and sleep, Tsukiko let herself wonder if Lieutenant Abarai’s tattoos were meant to disguise his softer side.

Thanks mostly to his height and trademark hair, Tsukiko quickly found Lieutenant Abarai presiding over an impromptu sparring session between two ranked squad members who’d been permitted to unleash their Shikai.

“Lieutenant Abarai,” Tsukiko said, bowing when he turned to her.

“Rookie,” he said, glancing at her bow. “You’re Hoku som’n or other, right?”

Tsukiko nodded. “Hokutan, sir.”

“I will probably forget that, but Hokutan, yes.” Lieutenant Abarai’s eyes shifted from one sparring Shinigami to the next. “Finally come to tell me you want out of our little piece of hell?”

Tsukiko smiled lightly. “Even if I wanted to, I think I’d stick around just to see real Shinigami at work.” She nodded in the direction of the sparring match. “I mean, I might be a ‘real Shinigami’ myself, but it’s fascinating and so informative to see experienced people at work.”

“Eh, most of the time we’re really just bumbling idiots. It’s learning to hide it that’s the real trick.” Lieutenant Abarai let out a quick smirk. “But what can I do for ya?”

Tsukiko sighed. “It’s actually about that, being a ‘bumbling idiot.’” She smiled sheepishly.

Lieutenant Abarai raised a tattooed eyebrow at her and crossed his arms. “You didn’t burn up Captain Kuchiki’s flower garden, did you?”

“Oh, gods no!” Tsukiko said. She had only stepped through that area of Squad Six headquarters once, though she knew it was a common place for the squad members to relax, so long as they kept quiet. “It’s just…I feel like I’m not advancing quickly enough.”

“Ah, the classic woe,” Lieutenant Abarai said. “You’re doing fine, rookie. No one expects you to be lord of the sword on day one.”

“I know, sir, but….” Tsukiko looked away. “I’ve seen a difference in just about all my skills since I got here, but I still can’t get the hang of meditating. It’s like I can’t get it to work or I relax too much and fall asleep or whatever.”

Lieutenant Abarai nodded. “I understand,” he said, “but I also think that you’re being too hard on yourself.”

Tsukiko rolled her eyes, but quickly stood up straighter, not wanting to offend her superior.

Lieutenant Abarai pivoted to eye her full on. “You can be at the top of your class in every subject at the Academy and still be the worst in your squad. I’m not saying that to discourage you, but to tell you that you’re not the only one in this position. You’re exactly where you need to be.”

Tsukiko eyed her superior. His words were sincere, and his bright eyes, just beginning to show signs of crow’s feet, even more so.

“As for sword meditation and all that, well.” He shrugged. “Would you believe me if I said I’m still not—HEY, NO HEAD SHOTS, WE NEED YOU JACKASSES FOR THE REAL DEAL!” Lieutenant Abarai marched onto the training field and gestured angrily at the sparring squad members.

Tsukiko, her heart beating fast from the sudden outburst, gazed wide-eyed at her lieutenant. Where his words were just sincere, they were now ferocious, and his eyes adjusted to match this new emotion. His volume and profanity perhaps unnecessary, it was still apparent that this man was a leader, and a powerful one at that. Authority radiated from him, an effortless reflex like the unsheathing of a sword before a foe.

In slow motion, Lieutenant Abarai turned back to face her. She watched as within the span of a blink, his frustration melted away, the reflex returned to its sheath, in its place now the open, bright jasper eyes with their hint of age.

“What were we talking about?” Lieutenant Abarai asked, standing back next to her at regular speed.

Tsukiko forced herself to swallow and, more importantly, look away from her lieutenant. “Uh, sword meditation…” she said, looking what she hoped seemed casually at the grass at her feet.

“Oh, right,” Lieutenant Abarai said. “Like I said before these idiots rudely interrupted me, I’m still not a pro at sword meditation, but that’s because I never will be. Sword meditation is a skill you only ever build, not master.”

Tsukiko nodded, moving her hair to cover her face and the deep blush tinging her pale face.

“But you don’t need to worry about that right now. What you should do is be honest with yourself.” He gently punched her arm. “Admit that it’s okay not to have everything in the bag after only a month post-Academy.”

Nodding again, Tsukiko carefully smiled at her superior, hoping with all her being that her blush had abated even a little. “Yes, Lieutenant Abarai. It’s okay that I’m not Kami-sama Hokutan.”

“Exactly, and count yourself lucky that you’re not ONE OF THE HYENAS WHO DON’T KNOW HOW TO SPAR WITHOUT KILLING EACH OTHER!”

Tsukiko allowed herself a laugh as her sparring squad fellows, both now bearing shallow wounds, rapidly apologized. She forced herself to watch the blood bloom on one’s collar, the cause of the latest reprimand, so she wouldn’t blush again at their lieutenant.

Once Lieutenant Abarai had calmed, Tsukiko bowed, ignoring his protests at the show of respect. “Thank you for your advice, Lieutanant Abarai,” she said. “A rookie like me is lucky to receive the words of her superior.”

Lieutenant Abarai waved his hand. “Don’t mention it,” he said. “I’d be a pretty crappy leader if I didn’t actually lead, amirite?”

Tsukiko grinned. “I suppose you’re right.” She turned to leave.

“Ooh, damn, forgot the most important thing,” Lieutenant Abarai said. He waited for Tsukiko to face him and said, “One thing you can try is ignoring the sword completely. You haven’t unlocked it yet, so it’s really just an object, which means you should meditate on just yourself.” He tilted his head back. “Give that a shot and let me know how it goes.”

Tsukiko nodded quickly and bowed again, this time to hide the blush that just wouldn’t leave her. “Thank you again, Lieutenant Abarai,” she said. “I’ll leave you to the hyenas now.” She turned away as he laughed.

She’d definitely made the right choice going to her lieutenant. There was zero judgement in his advice and presence, and he’d made it a point to listen. Thinking about getting the same treatment from Captain Kuchiki nearly made her laugh, but her thoughts quickly circled back to Lieutenant Abarai. He taught her about sword meditation, but that wasn’t all she’d learned.

Lieutenant Abarai definitely wasn’t a Zanpaku-to, but Tsukiko suddenly felt she knew what Emi had meant about a “pulse.” She’d felt one just minutes ago, when Lieutenant Abarai displayed his authority.

Right in her heart.

\--

Later that night, as Tsukiko was about to turn the corner from the barracks to the showers, she heard voices speaking in the hall up ahead. She paid them no mind until she distinctively heard the name “Hokutan,” and turning quickly toward the showers, she pressed herself against the wall to listen in.

“…will help her,” she heard Lieutenant Abarai say. “Want me to do it?”

“No,” Captain Kuchiki—oh gods, the captain?—responded. “I will do this myself.”

“But don’t you think it’ll look a little suspicious if _you_ —?”

Captain Kuchiki’s voice darkened. “Abarai, as captain of Squad Six it is my responsibility to ensure the success and development of my squad members. Where I recognize a need for additional support to guarantee these two things, I act, and I act as I see fit. Do not tell me my actions are irrational or that I must defend them. I am your superior, and in return for my desiring your success, I demand your respect.”

Lieutenant Abarai mumbled an apology and bid the captain a good night, to no response. One of them started walking in her direction—it had to be Captain Kuchiki, Lieutenant Abarai’s steps were louder—and Tsukiko pressed herself flatter against the wall. Thankfully, Captain Kuchiki continued straight past the hall leading to the showers, not seeing her at all.

Tsukiko’s heart pounded in rhythm with the questions appearing in her mind. What was Captain Kuchiki planning for her, and what would he help her with? Sword meditation, perhaps, if Lieutenant Abarai had initiated the help? But if whatever he wanted to do was so problematic with him as a captain, why did Captain Kuchiki volunteer in the first place? Wasn’t he the living embodiment of status quo?

Tsukiko would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little disappointed that Lieutenant Abarai wouldn’t be the one to help her.

Apprehensive yet eager for tomorrow, Tsukiko showered and scurried into bed. But unlike all other nights, she fell asleep much slower. Thoughts of training with Captain Kuchiki left her mind racing, though soon enough, she shifted to remembering Lieutenant Abarai’s disciplining her squad fellows. In place of dwelling on his tattoos, she imagined training with him and having his captivating power aimed right at her, sending tight shivers down her spine, and lower, until exhaustion at last carried her away.


	8. Chapter 8

It had been like a blessing from on high when Renji proposed the perfect excuse for Byakuya to train Tsukiko. Of course the baboon had no idea what he was doing, but that only made it better. Let him believe he was simply doing Tsukiko a favor, when in truth he was making his captain’s life infinitely easier.

Byakuya knew it had been a good idea never to fire him, even during the times when all he wanted was a Renji-free life.

The day after Renji’s unknowing stroke of genius, Byakuya sped through drills before returning to his office. He pulled the file containing the squad’s weekly schedule out of his desk and flipped through the pages until he saw all names beginning with H sound characters. A quick glimpse at “Hokutan” informed Byakuya that Tsukiko had half an hour between morning drills and a shift patrolling District One of Southern Rukongai. While he was not especially fond of hunting her down, it turned out that he didn’t have to, for even Tsukiko’s location was thrown in his lap: he’d hardly glanced out the window for a bit of reprieve when he saw Tsukiko sitting cross-legged in his garden, of which he had an excellent view from his office. She was sitting cross-legged in front of the koi pond, her back to him and either end of her bare Asauchi poking out from its position on her lap.

In an effort to preserve an air of nonchalance, Byakuya returned the schedule to its drawer and began to sift through the minute stack of paperwork on his desk. He only meant to sign the sheets that required just his signature, but unfortunately, that involved bypassing what were no less than fourteen transfer requests (not one signed by Rukia) from a certain Kontori Emi, all of which declaring that her life in Squad Thirteen was “deplorably boring” and that as a member of Squad Six, she would “absolutely flourish and be the very best squad member evaaaar if you just let me in because I LOVE YOU KUCHIKI BYAKUYA MARRY ME I KNOW YOU’RE SINGLE.”

Starting to wonder if he should be concerned, Byakuya fed each request into the shredder.

Minutes later, with the appropriate papers signed and his window view confirming that Tsukiko had not moved, Byakuya at last walked out into the garden. The summer blooms were still strong and gently fragrant, though in just a week or two they would begin to wane with their season. Mourning the garden only slightly, Byakuya stepped before Tsukiko. Her Asauchi hadn’t moved from her folded legs, and her hands rested on her knees. Her head was bowed low in concentration.

Speaking softly but firmly, Byakuya said, “Hokutan.”

There was no response.

Raising his voice slightly, Byakuya again said, “Hokutan.”

This time there was certainly a response, but not the one Byakuya expected: an enormous snore louder than any he’d heard in years came out of Tsukiko’s mouth.

_I must say, I was starting to doubt she’d inherited anything from her mother_ , Senbonzakura said with a chuckle.

Byakuya exhaled, even though it was very true that Tsukiko and Hisana had at least one thing in common—unfortunately. “Hokutan, the barracks are over there if you wish to doze off,” he said at last, his voice not loud but of piercing authority.

Tsukiko gasped awake in an instant, and her Asauchi went flying as her legs flailed. She glanced around in confusion, but the color drained from her face when she saw who had woken her. Quickly dusting herself off, Tsukiko stood and bowed to Byakuya. “Captain Kuchiki, I beg your forgiveness for falling asleep in your garden!” she said, retaining her bow. “It’s a beautiful location, a-and so tranquil—!”

Byakuya cleared his throat, and immediately she stopped, bending back up at the waist. His eyes briefly met hers, and again he was surprised by the familiar shade of gray. But there was a more important matter to attend to. “Have you nothing better to do, Hokutan?” Byakuya asked.

Tsukiko shook her head. “N-no sir. I have a break before my shift—”

“And so you chose to nap in my garden?”

“No sir! I was attempting to meditate—” Tsukiko scanned the ground and grabbed her Asauchi, holding it up as though its presence would prove her innocence. “Y-yes, I was attempting to meditate and…I, uh….”

“Fell asleep in my garden.”

“…Yes sir.” Tsukiko looked down.

Byakuya stepped closer to the pond, staring at the lightly rippling water and twirling koi. “I won’t ask about meditation, as it is clearly not a strength of yours, but I assume you’re adapting well in all other regards?”

“Uh, yes sir,” Tsukiko said. “Being in Squad Six provides sufficient challenge, but I don’t find it discouraging. I can find help whenever I ask, and for all else I am willing to work hard.”

“Except with sword meditation.” Byakuya glanced at her blushing face. “I suppose it’s only natural to have a flaw or two. An Achilles heel, I understand they call it in the West.”

“An Achilles heel?”

“A reference to Greek mythology,” Byakuya said, training his eyes on a pair of squad members who had entered the garden. Upon catching their captain’s gaze, they immediately turned around and left.

Oblivious to them, Tsukiko considered Byakuya’s words for a moment. “I should hope I become more than just a myth, sir,” she said. “If you will forgive my ambition.”

Byakuya may have shrugged were he anyone else. “That you remain ambitious after a month in Squad Six is telling, Hokutan.” He steeled himself. “Do you wish to improve faster?”

A look of what might have been triumph crossed Tsukiko’s face, but it faded just as quickly as it had appeared. In its place, she nodded. “Yes sir, but how?”

Byakuya faced the koi again. They had gathered before him in wait of their usual summer treat of watermelon, but while he had no melon for the fish, he had news for Tsukiko. “Lieutenant Abarai recently informed me of your meditation struggles, so I thought I might train you myself to keep the squad relatively balanced,” Byakuya said. “If you can forgive _my_ ambition.”

To his surprise, Tsukiko did not gasp or express her shock. Rather, it seemed as though she was not at all amazed by his offer. While he didn’t anticipate the waterworks of her crazed friend, Byakuya expected even a gasp. Had he perhaps said something wrong? Senbonzakura mumbled something about rumors or eavesdropping to contrast the impending guilt, but Byakuya hushed him as Tsukiko shook her head and stood up straighter.

Taking a deep breath that did nothing for her shaking voice—ah, there it was—Tsukiko said, “Captain Kuchiki, i-it is an honor that you consider me worthy of training. I-if you mean it—”

“Would I have proposed the idea if I did not?”

Tsukiko gave him a small smile. “No sir, I suppose not. But yes, I gladly accept your offer.”

“Excellent.” Byakuya looked once again at the pond, where the koi fish were still clustered together. “…I have another question for you, Hokutan,” Byakuya went on, deciding right then to disguise a question he’d had for some time now as a captain’s curiosity.

“Sir?”

“Your talent, while certainly imperfect, exceeds that of most other recruits I’ve had join my squad over the years. Have you a Shinigami background?”

“I’m afraid not, Captain,” Tsukiko said. “My parents were both from Hokutan.” She paused. “They died before I was two, so our neighbor took me in. She passed while I was at the Academy, but I suppose that’s for the best. I don’t exactly have much time to visit—” She cut herself off, perhaps regretting what surely sounded to Byakuya like a complaint about her workload.

But he let it go, consumed as he was by Tsukiko’s answer. It was exactly what he’d instructed her nurse to say, but no amount of success could counteract the sinking sensation in his stomach.

Byakuya shifted, the physical movement helping him move forward rather than back. “That is unfortunate, your family situation,” he said, “though experience has taught me that diamonds in the rough are typically more eager to learn than those born with a silver spoon in their hand.”

“Like Lieutenant Abarai, sir?” Tsukiko offered.

Byakuya almost raised an eyebrow. “He is certainly one example that comes to mind, yes….” He turned to face Tsukiko, and his typical noble bearing returning in full. “But for now, you are simply carbon atoms floating in space. You won’t become a diamond any time soon.” He began to walk away. “I understand your Tuesday afternoons are free, Hokutan. Meet me next Tuesday, three PM, at the Kuchiki manor. Prying and jealous eyes from the rest of the squad will do nothing for your progress.”

Shuffling fabric behind him told him Tsukiko was bowing. “Captain,” she said.

Wordlessly, he left the garden.

\--

_“Meet me at the Kuchiki manor?”_ Senbonzakura shouted as Byakuya made for the Hell butterfly cages. _You haven’t even told the family!_

_I am telling them now_ , he said to Senbonzakura, scaring a rookie out of the butterfly room with just his presence. _They will understand, and if they don’t, they will._

Senbonzakura scoffed. _They all say you grew out of your arrogance, but I know the truth: it increased tenfold!_

Byakuya ignored him and selected a Hell butterfly. He gently pressed his reiatsu into it to record his message: _Jii-sama, I request your presence in half an hour—_

Byakuya’s soul pager chirped loudly, interrupting the recording. Though Kurosaki’s return to the Seireitei had vastly accelerated the development of soul pagers, making them more like phones in the World of the Living than, as he put it, “glorified pagers like we’re all stuck in the fucking nineties,” Byakuya rather favored the pagers’ older model; at least then they were quieter. Exhaling slowly, Byakuya withdrew his reiatsu from the Hell butterfly and pulled his pager out of his haori, hardly checking the screen. “Kuchiki Six,” he said.

“Nii-sama,” Kuchiki Thirteen said. Rukia’s voice was urgent, and in the background Byakuya heard Ichika screaming. “I’m sending Hisana to the manor. Ichika came over while Ichigo was home.”

“Say no more,” Byakuya said, all thoughts of Tsukiko flying out of his head. “Do you need assistance?”

“I can manage alo— _Ichika, stop_ —!” The screaming morphed into a bellow of pain and a cry of vicious victory, and a loud _thump_ sounded through the microphone as Rukia dropped her pager.

Ending the call, Byakuya recorded a new message for the Hell butterfly, this one telling his grandfather to keep Hisana busy while he assisted Rukia.

\--

When Byakuya arrived at Ichigo and Rukia’s house, one of the front windows was shattered, through which a suspicious silence billowed into the front yard. Among the window shards on the lawn, Byakuya distinguished the remains of a teapot he’d once gifted Rukia for her birthday.

Keeping a hand firmly planted on Senbonzakura’s hilt, Byakuya slid open the unlocked front door and stepped inside, where his ears were met not with angry shouts, but low, clipped voices. As he moved into the sitting room, he found the table broken into pieces. The tatami mats were covered in teacup shards and tea stains, and the sitting cushions were laying anywhere but at the ruined table. There was no blood on the floor, but nor was there an active fight.

“…may have attacked you, but you didn’t have to provoke her,” Byakuya heard Rukia say through the open door to the kitchen.

Kurosaki was quick to respond. “She started going—ah, hell, that _stings_ —after my mother. Did you really think I’d let that go?”

Rukia scoffed but didn’t answer.

Byakuya stepped into the kitchen then, and Ichigo and Rukia looked up from where they were standing at the counter. Rukia was in the middle of cleaning a fresh cut on Ichigo’s bared arm, a reddened gauze pad raised to the bleeding wound. Other than that, neither she nor her husband seemed injured. Ichika was nowhere in sight.

Breaking from Byakuya’s entrance, Ichigo looked away, leaning hard on the counter. “Hey, Byakuya…” he said, his voice less than pleased.

Rukia nodded at Byakuya. “Thank you for coming, Nii-sama, but we have this under control now.” She once more dabbed at Ichigo’s arm with the gauze, but she stopped, and not because Ichigo hissed in pain again. “Where is Hisana?” she asked.

“I was at headquarters when you called,” Byakuya said, examining the kitchen; while not particularly neat, it wasn’t any different than its usual appearance. That meant that the fight had been contained to just one room this time. “I sent Jii-sama a Hell butterfly to expect Hisana-chan. I came because it sounded from my end like things were escalating.”

Rukia sighed but lowered the used gauze pad to the counter. “Thank you, Nii-sama,” was all she said as she studied the cut on Ichigo’s arm. It wasn’t particularly shallow, but already the bleeding was slowing.

“Where is Ichika-chan?” Byakuya said.

“Hisa’s room,” Ichigo said. He was quieter, with Rukia now pressing a fresh gauze pad to his arm and wrapping it securely in a bandage. “Rukia had to knock her out, she was getting so worked up.” His eyes briefly widened. “She can get so damn _hysterical_ ….”

Rukia tsked. “It’s not as if she was ever a calm soul.”

Ichigo glared at her. “You say that like I should just forgive her for cutting my arm open.”

“Okay, and who punched her in the eye?” Rukia said, her voice raising.

“Enough,” Byakuya said, willing to be peacekeeper even for a fight he didn’t expect. “Is Ichika-chan otherwise injured?”

Both Ichigo and Rukia shook their heads, and trusting in their continued silence, Byakuya moved down the hall to Hisana’s room. The door was partially closed, and he slid it open in full, revealing walls decorated with Hisana’s brightly colored drawings, some of them picturing people who looked rather like rabbits (Byakuya silently acknowledged his own long-eared visage in a few pictures). A lilac-colored rug covered most of the floor, and a pile of toys sat along one wall, arranged as though Hisana had been playing with them and only just left the room. However, in the corner where Hisana’s futon would unfurl at night lay the full-grown Ichika and her sheathed Zanpaku-to, her black uniform contrasting harshly with the bright, youthful room. Her red hair offered a stark heat against the rug’s cool colors, though this red was pure hellfire, better suited for burning than warming. Ichika’s face was smoothed by unconsciousness, but as anticipated, her nose and left eye were swollen and irregularly blotted with black and blue. While Byakuya didn’t at all like the thought of Ichigo hurting Ichika, it was readily apparent that Kurosaki could throw a solid punch. And if what Rukia had said about Ichika insulting Kurosaki’s mother was true, perhaps Ichika had deserved it.

“I don’t like fighting her,” Ichigo said quietly, and Byakuya turned to face him.

Ichigo swallowed and leaned against the doorframe on his good arm. “I know it’s better for us to stay apart because fighting’s all we ever do, but I do want to have a normal conversation with her again some day.”

Byakuya slowly crossed his arms. “What if she doesn’t wish to have a conversation with you?”

Ichigo rolled his eyes. “That’s what I’m getting at, Byakuya. I don’t want to fight with Ichika anymore. I always liked her, and we got on well enough before the divorce, but….” He sighed. “She picked a side and is sticking to it.

“Anyway, how’s it going with _your_ kid? Have you told Tsukiko she’s yours yet?”

A stab of panic pierced through Byakuya’s chest, and his eyes examined Ichika for any sign of consciousness. As far as he could see, her eyes hadn’t fluttered, and her chest still rose evenly. Even so, Byakuya narrowed his eyes at Kurosaki. “Are you that daft not to start this conversation elsewhere?” he said.

The idiot brat held up his hands innocently. “Hey, Rukia promised she was out for another half hour—”

“Out, Kurosaki. _Now_.”

Not waiting for Ichigo’s response, Byakuya marched into the hall. Upon tampering down the usual urge to strangle his brother-in-law, he said, “If you must know, I told Tsukiko just today that I wish to train her.”

Ichigo smiled. “There we go. Certainly took you long enough.”

“I was waiting for the right moment.”

“More like putting it off,” Ichigo said as they re-entered the ruined sitting room. “You really didn’t just want to make an exception and get it over with? She’s your kid after all.”

Byakuya’s eyes narrowed once more. “You understand how delicate the situation is, Kurosaki. I needed to bide my time—quite like you’re doing with Ichika.”

That silenced the brat.

“In any case, this room is still a disaster,” he said, lifting his foot off the remains of a teacup. “I will call a cleaning service—”

“Oh, c’mon Byakuya, not this again,” Ichigo said. “We’re perfectly capable of straightening up—”

“You and Rukia are high-ranking Shinigami. It is beneath you—”

“Fine, but Rukia and I are paying for it this time, not you!”

“I insist that I pay. Oh, Rukia, a word about one of your squad members….”

The conversation, and Ichigo’s insistence that he pay for the sitting room’s repairs, carried down the hall and back into Hisana’s room, where the door had been left open. The words touched Ichika’s ears, but they did not wake her.

Rather, her eyes slowly open as she processed what her uncle and that piece of shit Kurosaki had said.


	9. Chapter 9

Upon returning to the manor after the latest Kurosaki-Abarai episode, Byakuya found Ginrei and Hisana playing _go_ , the former losing in the way only possible when purposely letting your opponent win. Hisana was none the wiser, but Byakuya frowned at his grandfather.

Ginrei met his eye, and his stooped form folded in on itself as he bowed. “Good afternoon, Byakuya-sama,” he said. He looked at the third of his great-granddaughters. “Hisana-chan, what do you say to our guest?”

“I’m gonna win!” Hisana shouted triumphantly, haphazardly slapping a white stone down on the board. Upon noticing the lingering stares from Byakuya and Ginrei, she sat up straighter and bowed to Byakuya. “And good afternoon, Oji-sama.”

Byakuya nodded just once at his niece and observed the _go_ board once more. “You’ve certainly progressed quite far, Hisana-chan….” He stared pointedly at Ginrei.

Ginrei shrugged his agreement. “She’s talented, Byakuya-sama. That is all there is to it.”

Byakuya rolled his eyes. “Jii-sama,” he said, letting authority slip into his voice, “I request a meeting with you later this evening.”

Ginrei placed a black stone on the board, and his eyes slid toward Hisana. “Of course,” he said.

“I will call on you after dinner,” Byakuya answered. He turned back to the game and picked up one of Hisana’s stones, offering it to her for her next move. “Hisana-chan, why don’t you—”

“Please let _me_ do it, Oji-sama?” she said, her eyes polite yet mildly indignant. “Please?”

Huffing out a short sigh, Byakuya looked once again at Ginrei, all the judgement in the world set on his face.

Naturally, Hisana still won the match, and when she insisted she play Byakuya next, she did not at all understand why she lost.

But after dinner, with Rukia having taken Hisana home (she quietly conveyed that Ichika had left without incident), Ginrei was ready to be called on. He’d even requested tea and poured Byakuya a cup once he entered the room. Byakuya took a sip, but he knew the green tea would do nothing for his rapidly knotting stomach.

Ginrei nodded at his family head and grandson, clearly believing all to be well. “How are Ichika-san and Kurosaki-san?” he asked.

Byakuya sipped his tea to avoid Ginrei’s gaze. “Minimal damage to both. But that is not what I mean to discuss, Jii-sama.” He steeled himself. “I’ve decided to personally train a squad member of mine.”

“I suppose they are close to Bankai then.”

“No…this one’s a recent recruit.”

“A recruit?”

“Yes…. She shows excellent potential that I wish to help her harness.”

His brow furrowing, Ginrei sipped his tea and eyed Byakuya carefully. “What else is there, Byakuya-sama?”

Keeping his eyes down, Byakuya said, “I wish to train her here, Jii-sama. I already told her—”

“You did what?” Ginrei set his cup down not in anger, but confusion. “What about this recruit is so extraordinary that you invited her onto the Kuchiki grounds?”

Byakuya bristled. “I am well within my power to—”

“I don’t argue that, but what of your recruit?”

“She shows immense promise in all but sword meditation, and I feel that training her one-on-one will benefit her.”

“And this training simply has to occur at the manor?”

“I felt it would limit distraction—”

“Oh, enough of this nonsense, Byakuya-kun,” Ginrei said, raising his voice. His eyes narrowed as he stared down his grandson. “I might be old, but I will not have you take me for a fool. You have plenty of squad members who simply ‘show immense promise.’ Get to the point.”

All hopes of dragging out the inevitable were instantly dashed. The only time Ginrei reverted to using the suffix _-kun_ with him was when he had lost his patience, and Byakuya had whittled away plenty of it. “…Her name is Hokutan Tsukiko,” he said at last.

Ginrei shifted only slightly, betraying little of his recognition. “So she is a girl from West Rukongai. That still does not say much.”

“She has a first name as well, Jii-sama,” Byakuya said, forcing himself to meet his grandfather’s eyes. “What do the names ‘Hokutan’ and ‘Tsukiko’ mean to you? You have my permission to speak of the matter.”

Though he was now allowed to speak of an otherwise prohibited matter, Ginrei did not. He appeared to be mulling over his response, chewing each word in his mouth to confirm if it had the right taste. Byakuya eyed him carefully, unsure of what to expect once Ginrei did answer.

Over a minute had passed when Ginrei reached for his tea. He took a sip and savored it before finally uttering just one word: “How?”

Byakuya let out a long sigh, feeling himself deflate with the exhale; perhaps someday it would be easier to explain. But for now, he outlined how Tsukiko had come to join Squad Six and unknowingly reunite with her father, how he did not know his place in her life, how training her was a compromise to that problem, or perhaps an apology. His bringing Tsukiko to the Kuchiki manor was indeed meant to limit her and others’ distractions, but only in part: maybe, deep down, he wanted to see if she would remember her first year and a half of life, when this was her home and she knew the love of her mother and her father and her great-grandfather. When she was treasured not just as the heiress to the Kuchiki name, but as his child. Maybe this was his way of sharing with her the life she could rejoin if she wanted, if she was willing to forgive the reason for her removal in the first place.

Ginrei didn’t say anything after Byakuya finished. He crossed and uncrossed his arms, gazed out the window, squinted at his grandson, but didn’t speak. There was no chewing over his words now.

Upon realizing he would have to make the next move, Byakuya cleared his throat. “Jii-sama,” he murmured, “I know this is not an ideal situation by any means, but I hope you will, if not understand, excuse what I have done. I am ready to accept any repercussions as head of the family.”

Ginrei did not respond to this. Instead, he asked another question: “Will you tell her?”

Byakuya closed his eyes. “Of course I mean to tell her, but the exact nature of _how_ evades me.”

Ginrei sniffed. “It does not surprise me that someone as emotionally inept as you says that.”

Byakuya opened his eyes. “Excuse me?”

Ginrei let out a bark of a laugh, though he did not smile. “Byakuya-kun, you tell Tsukiko-chan directly and, yes, gently. You can’t sit her in your office and expect an ideal response, nor can you spring it on her.”

“But I can’t very well change my tone if she thinks I’m her captain and nothing more.”

“Then give her time to adjust to the idea of you as more than her captain,” Ginrei said, his exasperation near physical. “It was your idea to use these training sessions to help Tsukiko-chan, so use them for all they are worth. Let your guard down a bit—only a bit, Byakuya-kun, don’t give me that look—and ease her into knowing you as her captain _and_ her parent.”

As much as he hated to admit it, Ginrei was right. Again. He’d shown once more that no matter who held the higher title, Byakuya was still a youth without the wisdom or, frankly, the courage to proceed with life’s matters. That required confessing fault, or thinking about himself where so often it was easier not to. Ginrei had no such issue in this regard, and for that reason, Byakuya both admired and resented him, the balance of the two forever shifting.

Byakuya bowed his head at Ginrei, forcing his admiration to eclipse his resentment. “Thank you, Jii-sama,” he said. “You turn a foolish man’s senseless thoughts into coherent action.”

Ginrei returned his grandson and family head’s bow. “The pleasure is mine, Byakuya-sama,” he said. “Though I have one word of caution.”

Byakuya locked eyes with his grandfather.

Ginrei’s jaw grew stern. “The Kuchiki clan may not count many Shinigami among its members, but do not for a second think that those unable to read reiatsu will not realize who Hokutan Tsukiko really is.” He raised a hand when Byakuya frowned. “With your blessing, I will prevent them from approaching her or revealing the truth, but I can only do so much for a family that has long hoped for a reunion with its heiress, no matter how it once viewed her mother.” He gave Byakuya a knowing look. “I am included in their number, Byakuya-sama.”

Gratitude touched his chest, though only just.

In silence, grandfather and grandson finished their tea.

\--

Next Tuesday came both too quickly and not fast enough. It was like Byakuya had just finished his conversation with Ginrei when he sensed Tsukiko approaching the front gates of the manor she was born at. Though he hadn’t anticipated it, he was not surprised when his heart flooded with confidence. Blood relation aside, he was a captain meeting with a squad member to oversee a weakness of hers, and so a captain he would be.

Byakuya installed himself in the garden for Tsukiko’s arrival. He extended his reiatsu further and through it watched her pause at the gates. A guard swiftly secured her, then passed her to a waiting servant, who escorted her to her host. Drawing his reiatsu back in, Byakuya turned as Tsukiko stepped into view and then stopped, her eyes enormous as she took in the garden. She thanked the servant for guiding her, but her gaze remained firmly on the bridge, then the stream, then the summer flowers.

Byakuya agreed it was a sight to take in, but the garden had just started to die. The lavender stalks were still strong, but their purple now covered the ground beneath them. The bellflowers’ petals were beginning to sag, and the sunflowers were no longer the vivid hue of sunshine, but the sickly yellow of death. Only the hydrangea bushes remained in bloom, covered as they were in bursts of pink and indigo.

Byakuya strolled over to Tsukiko. “I suppose you’ve seen nothing like it, with all that staring,” he said. His voice was not unkind.

Tsukiko began to shake her head but caught herself. “Good afternoon, Captain,” she said with a bow. “Your garden is truly stunning.”

Byakuya nodded his acknowledgement. “Your flatter me, though you’ve arrived late in the summer.” He turned and walked to the edge of the stream; soft footsteps behind him assured him Tsukiko was following. “I suggest saving your awe for when the autumn flowers come in.”

“Forgive me, Captain Kuchiki,” Tsukiko said. “It’s just so…stunning.”

“Are you brown-nosing, Hokutan?” he said, turning his head.

Tsukiko blushed. “My apologies, Captain,” she said.

“Never mind.” He gestured beside him, and Tsukiko came to his side. “What advice have you received thus far on meditation?”

Tsukiko shook her head. “Not very much, sir. Lieutenant Abarai said it helps not to think about my Asauchi because it’s still just a sword. I should instead think about myself. A friend of mine also said to watch out for a ‘pulse’ in my heart.”

“Is this friend the one who keeps sending me transfer requests?”

Tsukiko smiled apologetically. “Yes sir.”

“Hmph.” Ignoring the memory of that sobbing mass of curls throwing herself at his feet, Byakuya returned to Renji’s advice. It was sound, but wrong.

“While I agree with your friend’s comment about a pulse,” he began, “Lieutenant Abarai was incorrect to tell you not to think about your Asauchi.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Let us walk.” He moved behind Tsukiko and leisurely made for the bridge, and she followed. “During the Quincy war, I was gravely injured and treated at the Soul King’s palace. While recovering, I met the Soul King’s personal guard, which included a man named Nimaiya Ōetsu. He created the very first Asauchi and thus the first Zanpaku-to. He also inherently knew the names of all Zanpaku-to.”

“Inherently?” Tsukiko asked.

“You would have to ask him for details,” Byakuya said, “but it’s unknown if he survived the war.”

“How is it unknown?” Tsukiko asked. “I imagine if Shinigami are still getting Asauchi, he’s still alive, but if he isn’t—?”

Byakuya paused halfway across the bridge and narrowed his eyes at Tsukiko, instantly silencing her. “Do you wish to learn about the infrastructure of the Soul Society or sword meditation?”

“Sorry, Captain….”

Resuming their walk, Byakuya continued. “After I recovered, I trained with Nimaiya himself, and he informed me that Asauchi are frequently and incorrectly underestimated. Many believe that because they are blank slates, they are weak, and their Shinigami incapable. However, Nimaiya believed Asauchi to be the strongest of all Zanpaku-to _because_ they are blank slates. They represent sheer possibility and the great unknown. Do you understand what that means for you, Hokutan?”

Tsukiko considered the question for a moment. “Does it mean that I need to take my Asauchi more seriously?”

“Precisely,” Byakuya said. “Lieutenant Abarai said you should ignore your Asauchi, but that is the exact opposite of what you should do. You imbue your sword with your very essence, so it is heinous to focus only on yourself. Indeed, it is selfish.”

“So I should focus on both my sword and myself?” Tsukiko asked.

“I thought that was obvious.” Byakuya glanced at Tsukiko, who blushed again. “This leads me to my next point,” Byakuya said. “What do you think of when you meditate?”

Tsukiko scrunched up her nose. “That’s a little difficult to answer,” she said. “I mostly just remind myself to think about meditating and not to fall asleep, but as you’ve seen, that hasn’t been working.”

“And why do you think that is?”

“Forgive me, sir, but I truly don’t know.”

They rounded past a bed of dying irises. “Let me ask you this then: do you think more about your sword or the reminder only to think of your sword?”

Tsukiko’s eyes rounded. “Oh….”

Byakuya allowed himself an internal chuckle. “Then that is where we will begin.” He brought them over to the stream, almost directly across from where they had started their conversation. “Untie your sword from your side,” he instructed, doing the same with Senbonzakura. Tsukiko mirrored him further as he sat cross-legged on the ground, unsheathed Senbonzakura, and laid the sword across his lap.

“Remind yourself only once to think about the sword on your lap,” Byakuya said. “From then on, only think about you Asauchi. If you do remind yourself again, acknowledge the thought and move on. It is not your primary focus.”

“I will try,” Tsukiko said, closing her eyes.

“Make your attempt your reality,” Byakuya said, and he too closed his eyes.

After but a few minutes of meditation, he was transported to his internal world. It was a barren meadow large enough to contain two iterations of Senkei Senbonzakura Kageyoshi and surrounded by dense, dark trees. The only light came from a bright moon that changed phases in no apparent order; today it was a waxing gibbous. Byakuya glanced to his left as Senbonzakura stepped into view from among the trees. Ever since training at the Soul King’s palace, Senbonzakura had stopped wearing a mask in his inner world, and so Byakuya received his smile in full.

“You’re doing very well,” Senbonzakura said.

“Of course I am,” Byakuya said, gazing up at the moon. “It wouldn’t help anyone to give Tsukiko false advice.”

Senbonzakura shook his head. “I’m not talking about the advice, Byakuya, though I do commend it.” He drew the sword at his side. “Now, you didn’t come here just to set an example, yes?”

Byakuya drew his own sword in response, and immediately their blades clashed. The meadow rang with their blows, and the grass at their feet grew trampled as they used the space allotted to them.

No longer able to take advantage of the blind spots caused by Senbonzakura’s mask, Byakuya was still working to revise his sparring with his Zanpaku-to. He knew better than to offer full offense in a flurry of sword swings, as that left him too slow should he need to switch to defense, but against Senbonzakura, who knew his style so well, it was extremely difficult to channel the element of surprise. But there was no room for discouragement: if Byakuya could defeat or at least match the very essence of himself, he was prepared for any enemy.

Between matches, Byakuya opened his eyes to observe Tsukiko. He did not disrupt her meditation, wanting to see what she could achieve with just the small bit of instruction he’d given her. Accordingly, he noted just her facial expression, which changed from blatant focus, to frustration, to serenity. With each confirmation, Byakuya withdrew to his inner world and another round of sparring with Senbonzakura.

But after four matches, a low hum rumbled into his inner world and soon shaped into the distinct sound of snoring.

Senbonzakura scoffed and rolled his eyes, sheathing his sword. “So much for progress,” he mumbled.

Byakuya too sheathed his sword, though he felt no inconvenience at ending the sparring session. “She’s still green. You can hardly expect her to have started sparring as well.”

Senbonzakura scoffed once more but bowed as Byakuya closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was back in the garden, facing the sleeping Tsukiko. Sheathing Senbonzakura with a _snick_ , Byakuya announced, “Get up, Hokutan, we’re done for today.”

Like the week before, Tsukiko awoke with a start. “Oh, dammit, not again!” she said before remembering whose company she was in. “Oh crap—uh, please excuse me, Captain!” She bowed her head.

Blinking but once, Byakuya rose and waited for Tsukiko to do the same. “I will give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you accomplished even something before your nap,” he said.

Tsukiko nodded sheepishly. “I did actually, sir. I didn’t see or hear anything, but I felt content.”

“Perhaps next time you will find contentment without falling asleep afterward.”

Tsukiko blushed but bowed in deference. “Thank you again for taking the time to train me, Captain Kuchiki.” She looked around once more at the garden. “Especially in this beautiful place.” Her eyes returned to his. “I will do better next time. I swear it.”

Byakuya snapped for a servant to see Tsukiko out. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Her face fell into an all too familiar look of stony resilience. “I fully intend to keep this one, Captain.”

Byakuya opened his mouth to clip her tenacity, but a quiet reminder from days earlier filled his head. _Ease her into knowing you as her captain_ and _her parent_ , Ginrei’s words echoed.

Captain _and_.

Crossing his arms before him, Byakuya matched the resolute look on his daughter’s face. “Your dedication is admirable,” he replied. “You might make me proud yet.”

The servant arrived then, and with one final bow and the smallest of smiles, Tsukiko left the garden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TL;DR Byakuya’s still really bad at just doing things.


	10. Chapter 10

She’d recognized the garden the second she entered it. Like a punch to the gut, Tsukiko had suddenly remembered being in the garden, its every surface covered in shimmering, pink-white sakura blossoms that filled her young eyes with wonder. There weren’t any sakura blossoms fluttering around when she’d meditated with the captain, but not every garden had a bridge in the exact location as the one in her memory, or the same bend in the stream, even if over fifty years had passed since she’d last seen it. She almost brought this up to Captain Kuchiki, but how could she explain it? For all she knew, she’d never been to the Kuchiki manor and was only laying a memory of a different place over the beautiful sight before her. Besides, there was the likelihood that Captain Kuchiki meant to impress her or, more likely, remind her of his social rank. Either way, a guest doesn’t offend their host by telling them they’ve already seen what is meant to awe them.

The rest of the training session had gone about well. Captain Kuchiki hardly lost his cold demeanor, but he advised her calmly and slowly. Without saying it directly, he taught her to banish the rushing sensation she always felt and then lost with sword meditation, as though she had to tap into her innermost self as fast as possible or die. Of course, then she’d woken up after nodding off for who knew how long and wished she’d died after all.

As for the garden, Tsukiko told herself to bring it up after a few more training sessions. She didn’t anticipate her relationship with Captain Kuchiki changing, but she felt it more acceptable to discuss the garden after a few more visits.

That had been over a month ago, and now Tsukiko only had to remind herself once to focus, and into the lull of meditation she drifted, more often than not without falling asleep. She felt that she finally knew what her fellow rookies meant about feeling “better” after meditating, for though she hadn’t made contact with her Zanpaku-to (and knew better than to think she could just yet), she always walked away from meditating feeling happier and lighter.

The next day was another training session with Captain Kuchiki, and while she still wasn’t entirely ready to address the Kuchiki gardens, Tsukiko did want to prepare herself for the lesson itself. She leisurely made her way to the Squad Six gardens, hoping to settle beside the koi poi but not counting on it. The most recent weather report had warned that the next day would bring an early autumn storm, so many of her squad fellows were now outside, chatting, sparring, and blasting music. They of course knew better than to make such a ruckus in the garden proper, but that didn’t mean Tsukiko could avoid the odd Shinigami also enjoying the budding autumn flowers.

Luckily, though, she managed to sit close enough to the koi pond to where she could pick up its still calm. She rested her Asauchi across her lap, gave herself the command _You are meditating_ , and closed her eyes. Filtering through the sounds around her proved slightly more difficult than usual, but with tips of her proverbial hat at the noise, she bid adieu to the occasional bout of laughter, the dull rubber bounce of a kickball, the haze of chatter coming into the garden…. But there was music she just could not tune out. It was some World of the Living import, with an underlying bassline that throbbed in rhythmic intervals. She couldn’t follow much more than the bass, but it was enough to pull her in, as if it had lassoed her around the waist and swept her along its journey…it thrummed and loomed…it took her places she could not know…it stirred something in her chest—

Someone grabbed her and heaved her back, and Tsukiko’s eyes flew open. Just as she was reaching back to fight off her attacker, Emi’s cheery laughter made her swing even harder to sock her right in the mouth.

“Hey, no hurting loved ones!” Emi said, finally releasing her.

Breathing heavily, Tsukiko turned to face her and slapped her arm. “You can’t be normal for just a of couple seconds?” she shouted.

Emi’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What’s ‘normal’?”

Tsukiko scoffed and smoothed down her hair and shihakusho. “Dare I ask why you’re interrupting my meditation?”

Emi settled on the ground beside her. “I had some time to say hi before my monthly check-in.” She rolled her eyes. “You know how my Captain Kuchiki likes to stay on top of us.”

“How’s that a bad thing?” Tsukiko asked. “It’s pretty nice she wants to know what’s going on with her entire squad.”

“No, it’s fine, it would just be better if it wasn’t her doing it.”

“Emi, for the last time, _my_ Captain Kuchiki isn’t going to just magically switch places with yours.”

“Oh, let me dream!”

Tsukiko sighed and glanced up at the sky. “I guess it’s not like I was really focusing anyway…” she said.

“Meditating still not going well for you?” Emi asked.

“Well it has been, and I’ve been enjoying it, but then _you_ —”

Emi raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you enjoy meditating? I thought it was just a necessary evil to you.”

Ooh…right. Tsukiko still hadn’t told Emi about her lessons with Captain Kuchiki. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, but with Emi now launching into her usual interrogation of what Captain Kuchiki had been up to since she last grilled Tsukiko, there still wasn’t much incentive to tell her. Then again, putting the issue off any longer would only worsen the situation when she did tell her…. Oh, fuck it.

Tsukiko held up her hand at Emi’s latest question. “I can’t tell you if Captain Kuchiki got a tramp stamp,” she said, cutting her off, “but I do have some news related to him.”

Emi grabbed Tsukiko’s shoulders. “You’re only just _now_ telling me?” she said, a frantic note in her voice.

“You might want to hold off before saying that,” Tsukiko said. “About a month ago….”

All things considered, Emi took it well. That is to say, hardly had Tsukiko finished speaking when Emi let out the shrillest of shrieks and hugged her tight. They were at least outside, but as Tsukiko’s ear was pressed against Emi’s chest, that didn’t really help her.

“Oh my _goddess_!” Emi shouted, at last releasing her friend. “You are so lucky and I am so _jealous_! Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Ooh, maybe I can get _my_ Captain Kuchiki to personally train me and she can partner up with the best Captain Kuchiki and we—!”

“Emi, shut up!” Tsukiko said, nervously looking around. She knew Emi finding out about her training would be loud, but she didn’t connect it to the rest of Squad Six finding out as well. More importantly, while Captain Kuchiki had never explicitly said their training sessions were to remain a secret, he didn’t strike her as the type to want it advertised. “Emi,” Tsukiko said, quieter this time, “I think it’s great that you’re thrilled, but one of the reasons I didn’t tell you is because this is supposed to stay on the downlow.”

“Oh, I won’t tell anyone,” Emi said.

Deciding not to strangle her today, Tsukiko ignored the squad members staring at them. “Anyway,” she said, “it’s really nothing big. Captain Kuchiki acts exactly the same. It’s just that we’re at the Kuchiki manor instead of—”

“ _You go to the manor?!_ ” Emi nearly shouted, catching herself only just. “You’re in his inner sanctum! You seriously couldn’t even text me about this?”

Tsukiko gave her a look. “First, what part of ‘downlow’ do you not understand, and second, do you really think you’d be okay with me not telling you this face to face?”

“Very true,” Emi conceded. She smiled broadly, but then her face fell. “Did he say why he wanted to train you and not, I don’t know, me?” Her fingers began to tear at the grass.

Tsukiko shrugged. “He says I have a lot of potential, and he wants to help me hone it.”

Emi raised an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

“I mean, he also said something about diamonds in the rough being more determined than people born into the Seireitei, but that kinda turned into an insult—”

“And do you know how many people would _kill_ to be insulted by Kuchiki Byakuya?” Emi said, her fingers tearing at the grass with renewed fervor.

Tsukiko rolled her eyes.

“But yeah,” Emi said, “jealous as I am, I don’t believe that’s Captain Kuchiki’s real aim.” She threw the shredded grass into the air like confetti.

“What makes you say that?”

Emi shrugged. “Dunno. Just seems a little….” She chewed on her lip. “I don’t know. It just rubs me the wrong way. That’s not how the man works.”

Though she agreed that Captain Kuchiki wasn’t the warmest or most inviting person alive, Tsukiko felt more than a little defensiveness, and her jaw went taut. “Maybe he’s testing a different approach with this batch of recruits.”

Emi shook her head. “Kuchiki Byakuya doesn’t do that.”

“You’re doing a shit job of defending yourself,” Tsukiko growled.

“Oh relax,” Emi said, throwing her natural confetti directly at Tsukiko now. “If Captain Kuchiki wants to lie, he can lie, but he wouldn’t train you unless there was something in it for him.”

“You’re jacked. And would you fucking stop—” Tsukiko swatted at the confetti.

Laughing as she threw the last of the shredded grass, Emi leaned back on her hands and looked around the garden. “How’s it going with Lieutenant Blueballs, by the way?” she asked.

Instantly Tsukiko’s face went red, and she grabbed Emi’s arm. “Zip it!” she whispered. “What if someone hears? They’re already looking at us because of all your shouting!”

Emi swatted her away. “There’s a ton of lieutenants, who says we’re talking about yours?”

“Me!”

“Then don’t say anything.” Emi smirked.

Tsukiko sighed, but soon enough her exasperation was replaced by a sad smile. “I mean, I can’t exactly pursue this, can I?” she said. “There might not be an official rule about it, but it’s not really a thing for squad members, especially tiny unranked ones like us, to date their lieutenants. Not to mention Captain Kuchiki is such a stickler for rules, spoken or unspoken.”

“Isn’t that structure one of the reasons you wanted to join Squad Six?” Emi asked.

“Of course,” Tsukiko said, “but I didn’t think I would…y’know….”

“You didn’t think you’d flood your basement every time you saw Lieutenant Abarai.”

“Oh my gods, _shut up!_ ”

Emi cackled. “Do you think he likes you back?”

Tsukiko shook her head, still blushing like mad. “I can’t tell. He’s nice and all, but that’s not any different than how he treats everyone else.”

Emi pointed in the direction of the offices. “Want me to go ask?” she said.

“Don’t you dare!” Tsukiko swatted at Emi.

“Oh relax. It’s been forever since you last got laid anyway.” Emi stood up and brushed the shredded grass off her shihakusho. “I say pursue this, no matter what Captain Gorgeous might think—and speaking of….” Her gaze turned serious. “Tsukiko, please text me if anything changes with you and Captain Kuchiki. I know you said not to worry, but I really don’t think this is just casual interest in training you.”

Tsukiko raised an eyebrow. “You make that sound like he’s hitting on me or something.” She mimed gagging.

Emi remained serious. “I mean it. I have a weird feeling about this.”

Tsukiko rolled her eyes. “I think you’re just jealous, but I promise I’ll tell you if anything happens.”

“Attagirl.” Emi winked. “And don’t be afraid to open your shihakusho a little. Based on his track record I doubt Lieutenant Blueballs is a boob man, but it won’t hurt.”

“ _Emi_ —”

“Tootles!” The first of her shunpo took her out of sight.

With only a little guilt, Tsukiko sighed in relief as she was finally left alone. As much as she loved her, talking with Emi could be exhausting, even when she didn’t bring in conspiracy theories about Kuchiki Byakuya and publicly advised her in matters of the heart (or boobs). Tsukiko agreed that it was strange for the captain to single her out of an entire squad, but the fact was, he wanted to train her, and she’d be a fool to pass that up. Whatever his motivation, Tsukiko knew better than to question it, and so far, it had only brought her positive change.

Without Emi, the garden was once again quiet, surrounded as it was by the sounds of her joyous squad fellows. Placing her Asauchi back on her lap and closing her eyes, Tsukiko shed away the noise, but again, that dull bassline would not leave. It was a strong thrum that she found all too easy to latch on to. It was like a guide in the dark, imbuing her with focus and purpose. She gave herself one idea to consider, _You are your sword and your sword is you_ , and with that her thoughts began to flow. Clinging to the bass, she drifted from thoughts of her sword alone to thoughts of her place in Squad Six, where she brandished her sword as the one surefire defense against her foes…her place in the Soul Society, where her sword was a mark of triumph and power…her place in the world, where her sword could bring her anywhere because as she moved, so did her sword, she was her sword and her sword was her…who was she…where was she….

_She was a toddler sitting in her father’s lap. He was writing on a sheet of paper, and she was desperately trying to grab the end of the pen. His deep voice rumbled from his chest as he told her to let him write, all while he leaned down to kiss the top of her head._

With a deep gasp, Tsukiko’s eyes flew open. Her heart was racing with adrenaline, and she held out a hand to catch herself, though she wasn’t falling.

For Hokutan Tsukiko, this new memory aside, had just felt a pulse, as Emi said she would, but this one had absolutely nothing to do with Lieutenant Abarai. It wasn’t even a real pulse, or lightning, or whatever else she had been told she would feel. No. This was like she had been roughly shoved and only just caught her balance before falling—and she was completely alone.

Shaking slightly, Tsukiko looked at the Asauchi in her lap, unsure of what to expect but hoping it would offer further explanation. But other than a bright gleam where the late summer sunshine hit the gray steel, her sword remained silent.

Just as wordlessly, Tsukiko rose, sheathed her Asauchi, and headed to her shift half an hour early, eager for a distraction from the sudden memory of her father, the tight unease in her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shout out to everyone who’s read, favorited, followed, and/or reviewed “The Heiress” thus far! I appreciate your support!


	11. Chapter 11

“Open your eyes, Hokutan,” Byakuya said with a sigh.

Tsukiko did as told, and a guilty blush spread across her face. “Yes, Captain?”

A flash of lightning illuminated the room. “You’ve walked in like a hostage the last two weeks and haven’t even pretended to meditate,” Byakuya said. A colossal clap of thunder followed the lightning, and Tsukiko flinched at the sound. “And you can’t tell me you’re truly afraid of thunderstorms,” he added.

Tsukiko exhaled slowly. “My apologies, Captain. I…haven’t been able to concentrate—”

“For two weeks straight?”

She shifted and shook her head. “I’ll take care of it, sir. I won’t trouble you any—”

“No, because you’re doing a terrible job of ‘taking care of it,’” Byakuya said, knowing just how sharp his words were. “Whatever is happening with you is interfering with our lessons, and I would rather not waste my time watching you fail to put in the work I know you are capable of.”

Tsukiko visibly withdrew, rebuked.

“I can’t help you if something is happening outside my jurisdiction,” he continued, “but if what’s bothering you is related to meditation or our lessons in general, I would ask you to be honest with me so we can move past this nonsense.”

Tsukiko sighed shakily. “Well, um, the day before I…started interrupting our lessons…I was meditating at headquarters. Someone was playing music, but it was actually helping me focus, but then—” She stopped as lightning again brightened the room, another clap of thunder right on its heels. “But then,” she repeated, “two things happened.” Tsukiko eyed him as if asking for permission to continue.

He stared at her in response.

She swallowed. “I told you that my parents died when I was young, yes? I was actually so young that I don’t remember them, or so I thought…. I uncovered something while meditating that day.”

Byakuya stiffened. “Is that so?”

“Yes sir. I don’t think I was even fully capable of speech….”

As Tsukiko recounted the memory of sitting on his lap, Byakuya’s stomach knotted into tight, steely cords. Hearing her describe it reminded him as well of that day, perhaps not clearly, but enough to know that Hisana had already passed, and in an effort to be present for Tsukiko, he was working from his home office. She’d made a game of reaching for his pen, which delighted more than annoyed him. That day he was so sure he could keep both a work and family life, but unfortunately, those few hours of happiness could not compete with reality, especially once his search for Rukia picked up speed.

Byakuya snapped back to the present as Tsukiko told him of the second thing that had happened. “What pulled me out,” she said, “was this…shoving sensation. It was exactly like someone had pushed me, but when I opened my eyes, there was no one there. I was completely alone.” She looked at him. “Crazy as this sounds, I think it was my Zanpaku-to.”

Pushing away his newly rediscovered memory, Byakuya let a thunder and lightning pair pass before responding. “I think it might be safe to say that it was indeed your Zanpaku-to making first contact,” he said. “You were deep in thought by that point, yes?”

“I think the deepest I’ve ever been, sir.”

“Then I am doubly certain.” Byakuya sat up straighter, ignoring the pull of the cords in his stomach. “But why the hesitation now if you made such progress?”

Tsukiko shook her head. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, Captain, but the shoving from nowhere was a bit frightening, and to have that memory thrust upon me….” She breathed out in a long huff. “It was disconcerting, to say the least.”

Byakuya nodded. “I understand,” he said, “but you can’t hesitate like this.”

“I know, but—”

“No buts,” Byakuya said, forcing himself to trust in his conviction that all was possible (confessing to Tsukiko with minimal fallout, Ichigo and Ichika not killing each other) just as much as he wanted Tsukiko to. “It is natural to be afraid, but if you let fear dictate your life, you have failed yourself.” He caught her gaze and held it. “You said it was music that brought you to that state?”

Tsukiko nodded, wariness clouding over her expression.

“Then we shall face your fear head on and recreate that moment.” Byakuya snapped his fingers, and a servant slid open the shoji door. “Fetch two _rin_ and mallets for us,” he instructed, and the servant bowed her confirmation.

Once the servant closed the door, Tsukiko asked, “ _Rin_ , sir?”

“Singing bowls, you may know them as,” Byakuya said. “Primarily monks use them as prayer tools, but they are common enough outside of monasteries.”

Tsukiko visibly swallowed as another thunder and lightning pair shattered through the room.

“Though,” Byakuya said, “I suppose any music could help you in your free time.”

“…Do you recommend any particular music, sir?” Tsukiko asked.

Of course his preference was traditional folk or classical, or Paul McCartney, but Byakuya understood he was a minority in that regard. What bands did Renji constantly talk about…something with fire, he knew that much….

 _I think it was “flames,” not “fire,”_ Senbonzakura said.

 _Right you are._ “I suppose it doesn’t make a difference,” Byakuya said, “but I might recommend In Flames.”

Tsukiko’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline before her deference wrangled them back down. “In Flames?” she repeated.

“I believe that’s their name, yes.”

Tsukiko smiled cautiously. “Forgive me, sir, but I never took you for the type to like melodic death metal.”

“…Melodic what?”

“Oh, did you not know?” Tsukiko asked.

Byakuya stiffened again, this time out of pretention. “Lieutenant Abarai mentioned their name once. I haven’t yet discovered them for myself.”

Tsukiko’s lips clenched in a clear struggle to hold in her laughter. “I think they might be a little intense for you, sir—”

“Thank you, Hokutan, though I suppose if your Zanpaku-to is so fond of shoving, that melodical metal death or whatever it’s called might be an appropriate choice.”

Tsukiko snorted as her laughter began to escape, but the loudest crack of thunder yet nearly shook the house and chased her mirth back inside her.

Wiping at her eyes as the thunder died out, Tsukiko said, “I’m sorry, Captain. That wasn’t very respectful of me.”

“I suppose not, though you have admitted apprehension about meditating,” Byakuya said. “I am willing to accept your fragile emotional state as the sole reason behind your outburst.”

Tsukiko’s face fell at the reminder, and moments later the servant slid the door open and presented the requested _rin_ and mallets before exiting. 

One glance at Tsukiko told Byakuya she still had not been reassured, and when more thunder boomed around them, she was back to flinching. “I assume you’ve never used a _rin_ , if you did not know what one was,” Byakuya said, swiftly moving past Tsukiko’s anxiety.

“I recognize them now that they’re here,” Tsukiko answered; her hands clenched her knees. “But might I request a demonstration?”

“You may.” Byakuya picked up a mallet and gently set it on the rim of the _rin_ closest to him. “Most run the mallet over the so it rings, as it creates a more sustained sound.” He did just that, and a soft, then strong note filled the room. Once the ethereal note hit its full volume, he pulled the mallet away, and the note slowly began to fade. “You can also strike it—” He tapped the bowl, and it emitted a less pleasant but not offensive sound— “but I feel the first technique will better suit your needs.”

Nodding slowly, Tsukiko picked up the second mallet. Watching Byakuya as if for encouragement, she set the mallet on the _rin_ nearest her and began to circle it around the rim. However, her touch was too light, and the mallet frequently lifted off the _rin_.

“You must press the mallet against the bowl, Hokutan,” Byakuya said. “There is no need to knock it over in the process, but if there is no contact, there is no sound.”

Putting his words to action, Tsukiko pressed more firmly against the _rin_ , and the bowl at last began to ring.

Determining there had been enough practice, Byakuya moved his _rin_ and its cushion to his right side, then set Senbonzakura across his lap. Tsukiko did the same with her Asauchi. Once she was settled, Byakuya lifted his mallet once more. “It will take some coordination, but remember not to move the mallet too quickly. You want to create sound, not tire your arm.”

Tsukiko nodded and inhaled deeply, her breath shaky.

Speaking in a low voice, Byakuya said, “Whatever you discover or see, it _will_ help you. Fear is an obstacle, not a permanence.” He couldn’t help but feel that Tsukiko wasn’t the only one who could learn from those words.

They closed their eyes.

Slowly, the room filled with two low, ethereal notes as captain and officer, father and daughter, began to meditate. Their faces were blank, smoothed in focus, and their bodies were still save the rotation of their arms around the _rin_. The higher of the two notes, Tsukiko’s, occasionally skipped as she grew used to the movement or reacted to a rumble of distancing thunder, but it found a rhythm steady enough.

Without the need to verbally teach, Byakuya’s stomach clenched again. On the one hand, he was thrilled to witness Tsukiko’s progress toward her full strength as a Shinigami. On the other, there was no telling what her Zanpaku-to would unearth as it began to stir. Just as it came to guide her, it would hurt her. The term _double-edged sword_ had never had greater meaning.

But whose fault was that?

Ten minutes had passed when the higher _rin_ note skipped and nearly faded, its producer otherwise occupied. Apprehension spiking up from his stomach, Byakuya dared open his eyes and found a look of utter frustration on Tsukiko’s face. Her arm reached back down for the _rin_ , but just as it started again, her entire body swayed like an invisible force had thrust itself upon her. It struck each time Tsukiko reached for the _rin_ , and taking the hint better than her, Byakuya pulled his mallet away from his _rin_. “Come back, Hokutan,” he said. “Enough.”

After a few seconds, Tsukiko opened her eyes, and the frustration melted away too smoothly for it to have been hers. But just as it relaxed, her face shifted into a peculiar expression.

Byakuya set his mallet down. “You seem to have something to report, Hokutan,” he said, his heart beginning to pound.

“Yes, Captain, but I don’t quite know how to put it,” Tsukiko responded. Her brow now crinkled in concentration. “No memories this time, but I was shoved. A lot.”

Byakuya nodded, though something prevented full relief from reaching him at hearing she’d uncovered no further memories. “I saw. Anything else?”

“Yes. I also had…mental sensations? But I also felt them as if they were physical.” She shook her head. “Like, I felt happy, but I, Tsukiko, wasn’t happy, then yearning, and on and on and on.”

He did not relax for a moment. “Did you hear or see anything, even a silhouette or a whisper?”

Tsukiko shook her head. “No sir. It was just the emotions that…weren’t really mine. Do you know what they were?” Her eyes sought answers.

At last letting relief flow through him, not as if the danger had passed but like it had only missed him, Byakuya nevertheless did not react right away. Tsukiko had reached a point where only she could determine what the next step might be. No matter the nature of their relationship, it was not Byakuya’s place to inform Tsukiko on this matter.

Amusement that wasn’t his own filled Byakuya’s mind, but Senbonzakura held his tongue.

Byakuya set his sword aside and eyed Tsukiko, who still clearly wanted clarification on what she’d felt. “This is where we will end today, Hokutan,” he said.

She started. “But, Captain—”

“It will come to you soon enough.” He stood, and she did the same, though her face betrayed her reluctance. As Byakuya stepped out onto the engawa, however, he saw that despite the retreating thunder and lightning, the rain had only transitioned from full, fat drops to fuller, fatter splashes.

Tsukiko joined him at his side, and she sighed. “I suppose I should get going before it worsens,” she said.

Byakuya almost agreed when his grandfather’s words once again echoed in his head. “Not yet,” he said, turning to face Tsukiko.

She looked up at him. “Sir?”

“Hokutan, would you like to join me for tea?”

The look on Tsukiko’s face made it seem as though he’d asked her to jump off Sokyoku Hill, but then she bowed her head and said, “Captain, I’d be honored. Thank you.”

“It certainly will keep you dry,” Byakuya said, moving back into the room and snapping his fingers. In moments a servant arrived, and he instructed her to have tea and refreshment prepared.

Once he and Tsukiko had sat back down to wait, Byakuya moved the _rin_ and mallets to the side. “Overall, did you feel the _rin_ helped today?” he asked.

Tsukiko nodded slowly, revealing some lasting apprehension at the invitation to tea. “Yes sir. It felt easier to fall into the deeper meditation, but I’m still not sure how I feel about my Zanpaku-to shoving me, if I’m honest.”

“Understandable,” he said, “but the worst thing you can do is ignore it. Remember, you’re forging a relationship, even if it’s not what you anticipated.”

Tsukiko nodded. “Does it at least get more tolerable, sir? I imagine my Zanpaku-to won’t want to shove me forever.”

Byakuya lightly shook his head. “That I cannot say for certain. Every Shinigami–Zanpaku-to relationship is unique.” He watched Tsukiko’s face fall. “But that isn’t to say the shoving might not prove useful.”

“Throwing me off balance is useful?”

“If you need to dodge an opponent’s blow, perhaps, but remember I said _might_ , Hokutan,” Byakuya said. “Now, I have a question for _you_.”

Tsukiko opened her mouth to respond but stopped when the door slid open, revealing the servant and their tea. Between them, she set down two teacups, a steaming pot of tea, and a small plate of rice crackers. Byakuya and Tsukiko poured each other’s tea, gave thanks, and took careful first sips of the hot tea.

Reaching for a cracker, Byakuya said, “My question, if I may?”

Tsukiko nodded. “Yes sir.” She too took a cracker and popped it into her mouth.

“I know you said your parents were not Shinigami, but did you have exposure to the Seireitei growing up?”

“Oh, um, well.” Tsukiko swallowed the last of the cracker. “Hokutan is a high-enough district that we still had Shinigami monitoring the streets, so I did see one occasionally when my grandmother and I went shopping or out for a walk.”

“You had a grandmother?”

“She was technically the neighbor who took me in, so we weren’t related, but that’s the classic Rukon story: you make your own family.” She smiled, though it did not reach her eyes, and she gestured to the plate of crackers. “She liked to tease me about needing to eat. Said if she knew I was going to cost so much she’d have never brought me in—not that she’d ever dream of doing it.”

Byakuya took another sip of tea. “You said she died while you were in the Academy, yes?”

Tsukiko nodded. “She caught a cold that never went away, but she was getting older, so I suppose it’s not all that surprising.”

“That doesn’t mean her death was easy to process.”

Tsukiko shook her head. “No sir.” She glanced at him. “Death isn’t a stranger to anyone in the Soul Society, is it?”

“There’s a reason this realm is overseen by death gods,” Byakuya said.

After a brief pause, Tsukiko said, “Captain, can I ask you something else? You don’t have to answer it.”

“Go on, Hokutan.” Byakuya lifted his cup to his lips.

“…Is it true that you adopted Captain Kuchiki Thirteen because she was Kuchiki Hisana-san’s sister?”

Nearly sputtering on his tea, Byakuya quickly set his cup down. The question, while certainly not outrageous, was not one he’d thought Tsukiko might ask, if only because it was now Seireitei canon why Rukia was a Kuchiki. On top of that, he never anticipated Tsukiko saying Hisana’s name in any capacity. The double whammy of the question now left him silent, and sensing something was wrong, Tsukiko said, “My apologies, Captain Kuchiki. That was out of—”

“No, I was just forming an answer,” Byakuya said. “And while I’m not usually asked that question, I must admit I appreciate you coming to the source rather than depending on rumors.”

Tsukiko smiled sheepishly.

“But yes,” he continued, “it was my wife’s final wish for me to find her sister and adopt her into the family.”

Nodding with this answer, Tsukiko asked another question, though her voice was quieter this time. “The rumors also say that Captain Kuchiki Thirteen resembles Kuchiki-san. Is this true as well?”

Without a word or thought, Byakuya reached into his inner pocket. He took out his soul pager, and after typing in his passcode, he scrolled to a screen mostly blank of app logos so it revealed the pager’s home screen background: Hisana’s professional portrait. With only a moment’s hesitation, he handed Tsukiko the pager, threats of her unearthing more memories be damned. This was the girl’s mother. Death had separated them for good, but as a death god, it was his responsibility to command death to return even a bit of what it had taken from Tsukiko. And him.

But if Tsukiko remembered anything, her bearing did not betray it. Her fingers were gentle with the pager, and her mouth was quiet as she admired the background. When she kept it longer than the customary few seconds, Byakuya did not mind in the least. She needed time, and time she would have.

Nodding just once, Tsukiko handed back the pager once its screen darkened, and Byakuya returned it to his pocket. In silence, he dared meet Tsukiko’s eyes, his own growing heavy with the weight of the history behind them.

“I’m so sorry, Captain,” Tsukiko whispered, her eyes glassy.

He swallowed once. “I am also sorry, Tsukiko,” he said. About her neighbor turned grandmother. Her parents turned strangers. Everything.

 _You just said her name_ , Senbonzakura said, intrigued. _And not the family one._

_How could I not?_

Tsukiko must have agreed, for her only reaction was to take her cup and say, “Do you mind if I make a small toast? I know it’s not my place, but I would say something, with your blessing.”

He lifted his own cup in response.

Tsukiko brought her cup up to face level with both hands. “To those we love,” she said.

He did just the same. “To those we love.”

They sipped their tea.

They ate their crackers.

They mourned those they dearly missed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While this chapter didn’t turn out any way I anticipated it to, it became one of my favorites event-wise. I know I shouldn’t have favorites as author, but it’s true.
> 
> Also, fun fact! In Flames did Ulquiorra’s theme song, “Moonshield.” (Second fun fact! I cited their album The Jester Race for my bachelor’s thesis because it served as a muse/no one could stop me. |D)


	12. Chapter 12

The near nonstop rain that had ushered in autumn’s beginning was proving the season’s standard. Countless drops pounded on rooftops and the heads of those forced to leave their shelter. Puddles formed indoors just as frequently as outdoors as wet uniforms dripped on tile and tatami mat, and it was not an uncommon punishment for Captain Kuchiki to assign mop duty to anyone he caught dawdling, mistakenly thinking that the poor weather implied lower work standards.

Tsukiko knew better than to give him reason to land her with mop duty, but he did the next worse thing by insisting on training indoors when a Tuesday packed with desaturated October sunshine brought a reprieve from the weather. The sunlight coming through the windows in their usual receiving room was a joke, and it was entirely too easy for Tsukiko to abandon her meditation attempts for daydreams in which she felt the sunlight directly on her skin.

The only issue was that Captain Kuchiki’s bullshit detector was ridiculously sensitive.

Upon letting out the latest of her many woeful sighs, Tsukiko heard Captain Kuchiki huff. “Are we really back to this, Hokutan?” he said.

Tsukiko opened her eyes from her daydreaming but immediately wished she hadn’t, for she’d come in contact with the Kuchiki Death Stare. Many people liked to say it was as though Captain Kuchiki was looking through your soul, but the reality was much worse: the Kuchiki Death Stare looked through your soul only to convey how much it disapproved of every single ounce of your being.

Accordingly, Tsukiko bowed her head in submission. “I apologize, sir,” she said.

Captain Kuchiki’s body was deathly still. “You say that as though you regret your actions, yet you haven’t moved passed your relentless sighing and begun to meditate.”

Tsukiko swallowed. “I-it’s a bit hard for me to focus today, sir….”

“And what is so important that you can’t focus this time? Don’t think to tell me it’s your—”

Just then, a servant slid open the room’s inner door and bowed once to Captain Kuchiki. “Kuchiki-sama,” he said, “Lieutenant Abarai is here for you. He says it won’t take long.”

Captain Kuchiki closed his eyes as if to controlling the urge to Senbonzakura them all into oblivion. “Send him in.”

Tsukiko hardly heard the servant’s response, so indebted was she to him for taking Captain Kuchiki’s attention away from her. The sun even shined brighter, it seemed, and she exhaled softly in relief. However, the second Captain Kuchiki looked back at her, she was sitting upright and attentive.

“Consider yourself lucky, Hokutan,” Captain Kuchiki said as Lieutenant Abarai’s tall form filled the doorframe. “We’re near enough to the end of our session, so we’ll finish early. I’m sure _you_ won’t mind.”

Tsukiko bowed her head. “Thank you, Captain.” She turned her head to Lieutenant Abarai and bowed once at him. “Good afternoon, Lieuten—”

“Nice seeing you, Hokutan,” Lieutenant Abarai said as he moved into the room. His eyes were trained right on Captain Kuchiki, to whom he bowed curtly. “Can you please remind your dogs that just because I no longer live here doesn’t mean I’m about to loot the place?” he said.

Captain Kuchiki frowned. “Are you sure you haven’t just made things unnecessarily complicated? You’re known to do it.”

Lieutenant Abarai rolled his eyes. “No, I haven’t. I walk up to the gate and wait like I’m supposed to, and still they act like I’m carrying a bomb. Can you please just talk to your people?”

Captain Kuchiki exhaled. “I will see what I can do,” he said. “But you’re not here just to berate my staff?”

“Yeah.” Lieutenant Abarai reached into his shihakusho and pulled out a folded paper. “I have to send this out today, but it needs your signature first.”

Unsure of what to do with herself, Tsukiko erred on the side of caution and slowly began to stand.

“Stay put, Hokutan,” Captain Kuchiki said as he signed the paper. After giving it a once-over, he practically threw it back at Lieutenant Abarai and narrowed his eyes at her. “Come back next week with a better attitude so we can achieve at least some progress.”

Tsukiko bowed low. “Forgive me, Captain. It won’t happen again.”

“Hmph.” He rose from the floor, and she did the same. “You’ll excuse me if I don’t see you two out, even if my life seemingly runs on your wants and needs.” He left the room in swift silence.

Subconsciously, Tsukiko edged closer to Lieutenant Abarai, fearful that Captain Kuchiki would return just as quietly and shank them from behind.

Her apprehension lessened some when Lieutenant Abarai scoffed. “Whenever I think he’s started to relax,” he said, “he proves just how much stick he still has shoved up his ass.”

Tsukiko let out a nervous laugh. “It’s certainly stuck up there tight today,” she said. “He had me caught in a Death State for not paying attention when you showed up.”

Lieutenant Abarai raised an eyebrow at her. “Were you really not paying attention?”

“It’s the first day of nice weather in weeks and I was stuck inside training….” She looked away, trying and failing not to smile.

To her relief, Lieutenant Abarai laughed. “Well, now you’re free, and as it turns out, so am I.” He tilted his head. “I was actually gonna go grab dinner. You want in? My treat.”

The shock hit Tsukiko right in the chest. Her? Lieutenant Abarai? _Dinner_? “Um, sure,” she said, not wanting her shock to translate as hesitance. Or other things.

“You can say no,” Lieutenant Abarai said.

“I can also say yes,” Tsukiko said, standing up straighter and setting her hands on her waist. “Besides, if you’re paying, why would I say no?”

Lieutenant Abarai chuckled. “Okay, fine, I know a place—oh c’mon, what now?”

The same servant from before had come into the doorframe. He held his shaking hands at his sides, bowed once at Lieutenant Abarai, and said, “K-Kuchiki-sama has asked that you both leave immediately—”

“We know, we know!” Lieutenant Abarai said.

“H-he also insisted I inform you both that you w-will bring on laps for the whole squad unless—”

“I said, _we know_!” Lieutenant Abarai grabbed Tsukiko’s arm and pushed past the flinching servant into the hall. “Hell, the man has absolutely zero patience.” He set off for the entrance.

Completely overwhelmed by Lieutenant Abarai’s hand on her arm, Tsukiko could only let out another nervous laugh.

Once they’d fetched their waraji and tied them back on, Lieutenant Abarai stood up straight and glanced at her. “Think you can keep up?” he said. “I’m starving.”

Tsukiko quickly shook herself out of the fireworks display going on in her head and smirked. “You act like I’m inept, asking that question.”

Lieutenant Abarai returned her smirk. “Then don’t disappoint me.”

And off they raced.

\--

They brandished their swords as they moved from the Seireitei to South Rukongai and sheathed them again, but Lieutenant Abarai did not slow until they’d bypassed the first few districts. When they did finally move down from the rooftops to the roads, the buildings were clean and everyone wore shoes, so Tsukiko figured they were still in an upper district.

Then, as she and Lieutenant Abarai turned a corner down a street that hummed with voices and clattering metal, Tsukiko’s eyes widened as they met an impossibly packed crowd. Any number of souls weaved in and out of lines that extended beyond the limits of her vision, clouded by steam and smoke from the countless food stalls that lined the edges of the street. The scent of frying, boiling, roasting, and sauteing food was near overwhelming, and Tsukiko’s stomach growled eagerly.

Lieutenant Abarai turned to her and raised his voice over the din of cooking and moving people. “It’s called Food Alley,” he said.

“I can’t imagine why,” she responded.

He smirked. “When I was growing up in Inuzuri—District 78 here—we thought this place was a myth. I found out it was real while I was in the Academy, and after I graduated, I think I spent half my first paycheck here.”

“I take it you didn’t overdose on all the food if we’re here now?” she asked.

“Not in the least, though I recommend staying away from the _karaage_ stalls. They won’t kill you, but they’re shit compared to this one fried chicken chain in the World of the Living. That stuff gives me life.” He pointed into the crowd. “For now, we’re going to my favorite stall, in the middle. Hold onto me.”

Trying not to push her luck, Tsukiko took hold of his sleeve.

“Oh please.” Lieutenant Abarai shook off her hand before firmly grasping it in his.

Tsukiko’s heart sang as he pulled them into the hungry crowd.

Despite Lieutenant Abarai’s imposing figure and the authority of their uniforms, their progress was slow-going. There were just so many people, and any gap in space was immediately filled if they didn’t move first. By the time Lieutenant Abarai stopped in front of a stall smelling strongly of grilled meat, nearly ten minutes had passed, and Tsukiko was starting to feel claustrophobic.

Lieutenant Abarai ducked his head down next to her ear. “I hope you like kushiyaki,” he nearly shouted.

Tsukiko shivered at his proximity. “Sounds good, but let’s hurry up, it’s getting way too crowded!”

Lieutenant Abarai nodded and, renewing his grip on her hand, brought them to the end of the line a few stalls down. Despite its length, the line moved, and every few seconds they stepped forward until they were at the stall again and able to order.

“You know what’s good, you order,” Tsukiko said, leaning up so Lieutenant Abarai could hear her. “But I’ll take shichimi on the side—a lot of shichimi!”

Lieutenant Abarai raised an eyebrow at her but placed an order for ten skewers of assorted meats and vegetables, two cans of beer, and two small containers of shichimi. Tsukiko pocketed their beers and held out her hands for the food while Lieutenant Abarai paid. He then took one of the plates and her now free hand, and just as quickly as they’d ordered, they set off to maneuver through the crowd once more.

Somehow they made it to the other end of the street without losing even a skewer, or Tsukiko her sense of personal space. Lieutenant Abarai led her onto the street parallel to Food Alley, and she smiled when she saw the many heads bent over their food at a wide expanse of evenly spaced tables. Lights had been strung up overhead, and they twinkled in the rapidly darkening autumn sky.

As Lieutenant Abarai moved toward two empty chairs, Tsukiko said, “Never mind the food, just ordering and sitting down is an experience.” She set down the plate in her hand and pulled their beers from her pockets. “I thought I was going to hyperventilate.”

Lieutenant Abarai chuckled as they both sat. “Yeah, it can be overwhelming, but I promise the food’s worth it.” He took a can of beer and opened it, then waited for Tsukiko to do the same with the other. “To Captain Kuchiki: may he one day pull the stick out of his ass. _Kanpai_!”

“ _Kanpai_!” Tsukiko said, and she and Lieutenant Abarai tipped back their beers to finish their cheers. The lager was light and crisp, the perfect companion to their meal of kushiyaki. Tsukiko smiled to see Lieutenant Abarai had ordered her favorite, shio-seasoned chicken thighs, and she took a skewer and container of shichimi. She dipped the end piece into the container and slid the succulent meat off the skewer with her teeth.

Lieutenant Abarai shook his head and gestured at her with his own half-eaten skewer. “The shichimi is yours,” he said, his mouth full of chicken and leek. “I can’t do spicy—holy shit, Hokutan!”

Tsukiko smiled sheepishly as she immediately pouring the shichimi directly over her skewer. “I’m a little bit of an addict,” she admitted.

“Ch, you and the cap’n could be twins,” Lieutenant Abarai said, popping the rest of the skewer in his mouth. “I’ve never seen anyone go harder for spicy food.”

“Oh, he likes spicy food too?” Tsukiko said. Her tongue buzzed pleasantly from the shichimi.

“You have no idea.” Lieutenant Abarai took a sip of his beer. “When my daughter Ichika was little, she went through a phase where she had to ask everyone at the dinner table for a bite of their food. It was cute and stuff when it was just us and her mother, but we lived at the Kuchiki manor at the time and had dinner with Captain Kuchiki a lot. One night we ate with him, and he was eating chopped _takanotsume_ peppers….” He shook his head. “Let’s just say Ichika still won’t touch spicy food.”

“Ooh, poor thing.” Tsukiko cringed, the spiciness on her tongue flaring just at the thought of eating _takanotsume_.

“To this day she asks if there’s spicy food at every meal. ‘Will this kill me?’ she says. ‘Can I eat this and still feel my face?’”

Tsukiko smiled. “Well clearly I’m on the captain’s side, at least in this regard.” She finished her first skewer and reached for a second, this one bearing tare-seasoned chicken meatballs. “Why did you agree to become his lieutenant if you two are such opposites, spicy food and all?”

Lieutenant Abarai shrugged. “At first, I just wanted out of Squad Eleven. Don’t get me wrong, the guys are great, but it started reminding me a little too much of Inuzuri.” He took another bite of food and chewed before continuing. “I, ah, was also a little obsessed with besting Captain Kuchiki for a while, which kinda blew up in my face, but it worked out in the end.”

Tsukiko raised an eyebrow. “Obsessed with besting him?”

“Had to do with my ex-wife. Waste of time in hindsight, don’t you think?” He smiled bitterly, ending that discussion.

Tsukiko gave him an understanding smile and took a long sip of beer. “Going back to the Squad Eleven thing, was it really that similar to Inuzuri? Admittedly I don’t know much about the lower districts.”

“Hell yeah it was,” Lieutenant Abarai said. “I mean, I didn’t have to worry about stealing my next meal so I could, y’know, survive, but the constant fighting and sparring was getting a little too familiar.” He picked up another skewer. “It was more petty than fun after a few decades.”

“I for one find it admirable that you left if you weren’t happy, whether that be Inuzuri or Squad Eleven,” Tsukiko said. “Not everyone can do that. The best part is you got a promotion out of it. And for me as a member of Squad Six now, it’s nice having at least one superior I can talk to without having to think about it.” She glanced at him. “If you don’t mind me saying so.”

Lieutenant Abarai swallowed his mouthful of food. “Not in the least. I know how the captain is, so I try to make myself a little more human.” He nodded at her. “Squad members like you definitely make it easier.”

“Oh, you flatter me.” She pulled her hair over her shoulder to hide her darkening cheeks.

He poked her arm. “I mean it. A lot of the rookies run away from me and the captain because we’re the higher-ups and that automatically means we’re scary or something.” He paused. “Okay, the captain can be friggin’ terrifying, but hey, _I’m_ not that bad.” He smirked. “So yeah. I appreciate your openness.”

Tsukiko dared to smile at him. “You don’t exactly make it hard.” She froze.

Lieutenant Abarai froze.

_D-did I just say that?_ Tsukiko asked herself.

She felt a sudden pulse in her heart and swayed hard toward her lieutenant; evidently her Zanpaku-to believed so.

Cursing once he saw her chair start to lean, Lieutenant Abarai grabbed her before she toppled into his lap and righted her. “Hell, Hokutan, you okay?” he said, keeping a hand on her shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just….” She sighed and sat up straighter. “It’s my Zanpaku-to, we think. I haven’t seen anything, but the last few weeks I’ve occasionally felt like someone’s knocking me over when no one else is around.”

Lieutenant Abarai raised his eyebrows and clapped her shoulder. “Damn, Hokutan, you should be proud of yourself.”

Tsukiko rolled her eyes. “You say that, but on account of not having made true contact with my Zanpaku-to, I’m mostly just inconvenienced right now.”

Lieutenant Abarai laughed. “Understandable. Must be annoying to feel like you’re falling all the time.”

Tsukiko looked at him. His brown eyes were bright under the lights overhead, and his mouth was kind, turned up in a jovial smile. His hands, one resting on her shoulder and the other on the table, were loose, relaxed, and his collar was bent in on one side, revealing more of the tattoos his shihakusho cruelly hid….

Stone gray locked with warm jasper. “It’s not always annoying, falling,” Tsukiko said.

Lieutenant Abarai’s smile slowly faded, but he didn’t look away or take his hand from her shoulder. Instead, a most curious expression crossed his face, one she couldn’t fully interpret. It was like he was observing her, but wanted to remain distant at the same time.

_I fucked up_ , Tsukiko thought, not even trying to hide her blush now as panic rose from her gut.

And then, like he hadn’t just made her wish for death, Lieutenant Abarai smiled and leaned forward conspiratorially. “I think we should finish our food before it gets cold,” he mock-whispered.

Blushing harder than ever, Tsukiko coated a skewer in shichimi and shoved it in her mouth.

\--

They finished their dinner without incident, or at least, without Tsukiko wanting to launch herself into the sun. While their exchanges never advanced past what she’d said about falling, she didn’t know that in the moment, and the thought of her relationship with Lieutenant Abarai advancing or retreating with every turn of their conversation nearly gave her whiplash.

Still, it was leisurely that they returned to headquarters later that night after a long walk through South Rukongai, the stars hidden behind building clouds. But before they reached the door to the barracks, Lieutenant Abarai stopped between pools of lantern light. “Hokutan, wait,” he said.

Tsukiko stopped beside him.

Lieutenant Abarai looked around, though the area was empty, and when his eyes returned to her, they were serious. “I….” He hesitated, but then stood up straighter, his face strained. “If you don’t mind I might show you more of the stalls in Food Alley sometime,” he said, all in a rush, as though he needed to get it out now before he lost steam. “I-in a professional capacity, that is,” he added. “Cap’n’ll have our heads if he thinks this is…anything else….”

His words plowed right into her chest and through her back, where they burst into wings. “I-I’d like that, Lieutenant Abarai,” Tsukiko said at last. “All professional, like you said. Strictly professional.”

She locked eyes with him for just a few seconds before he let his gaze fall. “Well, um, good night then,” he said, reaching up to rub at his chest.

“Good night…” Tsukiko said, though she tapered off when she heard a shushed crunching sound coming from his shihakusho.

Just as confused, Lieutenant Abarai reached into his shihakusho and produced the paper that had started their evening in the first place. “Oh shit,” he said. He turned and ran in the direction of his office.

Laughing quietly, Tsukiko went inside and showered before retiring to bed.

But she did not go to sleep for some time: she was far too busy wondering what it would be like to fall asleep in the lieutenant’s bed instead, his red and her black hair overlapping on everything from the pillows to their bare skin.

All in a “professional capacity,” of course.


End file.
